


Life Is Cruel (and so are you)

by maridoll



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/F, M/M, also ft my endless love of big sibling squad + lami bc theyre all the same age, and koarei, domestic terrorism au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-10-11 07:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20542166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maridoll/pseuds/maridoll
Summary: The Revolutionaries were a prominent terrorist group in Mariejois that were credited for numerous heinous acts, including the destruction of several high-security government buildings. Besides their name and their deeds, everything about them was shadowed in mystery. Their leader, numbers, goals, and area of operations are entirely unknown.Until now.Now, with the release of a statement from the government of Mariejois saying that the group has been disbanded, everyone is on edge waiting to know more of the people that terrorized the general populous for so long. The press put everything into unlocking the secrets of this group as they dissect the vague statement that leaves one thing very clear: the members of The Revolutionaries are still out there. Over time, one question is brought to the forefront as media outlets race to be the first to answer: Why disbanded, and not terminated, not prosecuted?Ace intends to figure this out. Sabo isn't so keen on letting him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so. this was entirely intended to be my work for the op big bang this year. i had to deal with a lot back when it started late 2018, and it got but on the backburner for the lawlu bb fic in the spring, and then i had to deal with school and moving apartments and all this crazy stuff that kept piling up, so i never got the chance to finish. i'm still not done, but it's almost there, and i had a really amazing partner who i feel like i owe it to to get this out here, finally. 
> 
> i had a lot of problems with this fic in the beginning, and i feel like i set myself up to do things entirely out of my expectations. i got super upset when i realized how far off the plot was drifting from my initial idea and left this alone for weeks, and it took a long time and a lot of rereading for me to accept that it was okay, that it was good, that it was fine that things had changed. also that my ideal scenario of newspaper articles/journal entries before each scene was entirely implausible for me. i grew a lot writing this fic, and although it's not my favorite, i still am proud of it, to an extent. 
> 
> i do was to preface by saying this entire thing was going to be preslash, right up until sorta maybe the end. it is not that now. there are a lot of things implied, and a lot of things unsaid, and it's so much closer to slash now throughout the progression of the story than originally intended. if you can't handle saboace, i can no longer promise this is for you. there are no longer vague hints -it's out there. my artist loved it, and after a long spell, i've decided i love it as well. 
> 
> also. it's in one of the tags, but ill throw it here. this is a terrorist au. thats what the revs are. the story doesn't reflect my view on real life terrorism or the canonical view of the revs in any way.

Day 0

  
  


Sabo has one backpack that is maybe half full.

The only article of clothing inside is a baby blue sweatshirt he’d refused to be separated from. It was spattered in numerous bloodstains from over the years, the hem had a long slash on the left side, and the neckline was fraying. In no way was it fit to be worn out in public. Still, it held value, and so he kept it around. 

They had discarded the rest of his clothes, all covered in various stains and ripped to oblivion, falling apart. He’d been allowed a jacket with a minimal amount of damage, sweats with the cuffs in tatters due to snagging onto things over the years, and a pair of shoes with the soles falling off only on one side, as opposed to both sides like the other pairs he had had. No shirt, so underneath the jacket he wore one of Robin’s boyfriend’s old tanks. It was still too big. He kept the jacket zipped.

The room he was sent to was a decent size, with grey sheets and red walls. Sabo had originally assumed the room to be Dragon’s old one, since he had been told the house Garp lived in had been occupied for a long time, like some sort of family inheritance. But red? For Dragon? He couldn’t see it, even in his youth. 

Not like it mattered much.

The room was pretty barren other than that. They’d got in late, and Sabo had heard the front door shut as soon as he set his bag down against the bed. Looking around while Garp wasn’t there didn’t take priority over how heavy he felt, and so barely managing to slip off his shoes, Sabo slumps into the bed, over the sheets.

When he wakes it’s significantly brighter in the room, which means light was coming through the window behind him. He feels better, so he sits up, blinking sleep from his eyes. A note taped to his open door catches his attention, and he walks over to take it down. From behind, several bills fall to the floor. He blinks at them before turning to the note.

The handwriting is terrible, but he manages to read it well enough. It was from Garp, saying to go buy new clothes. That’s what the money was for, then. He crumples the paper and picks up the beri, counting it out and then setting it on the bed. A decent amount. 

First he’d have to shower. Garp had mentioned something about a door . . ah, yep. The far side of the room, a separate space for an attached bathroom. He strips of his clothes and flips on the light. The shower curtain is covered in comical pirate faces. Interesting. He smiles, stepping in and turning on the water.

There’s one bar of soap, unscented. He scrubs his scalp regardless, making a mental note to grab shampoo while he was out. 

He tosses the tank aside in favor of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head with a contented sigh. Reaching back into his bag, he pulls out his cellphone. He’d been surprised in the beginning that he’d been allowed to keep it, but now he’s resigned to the reason why. It wasn’t like it would make a difference. He was under surveillance for a reason.

He sits down against the wall opposite of the bed and quickly opens up a conversation.

**[ 07:23 ] ** i need the most sane person to help me get clothes

A buzz alerts him to a reply almost immediately.

**[ 7:24 ] ** Unfortunately i don’t think viper is available

**[ 7:24 ] ** oh fuck off

**[ 7:24 ] ** are you free or not

**[ 7:24 ]** Yea i am. I’ll forward you an address

**[ 7:24 ]** Meet in 20?

**[ 7:25 ] ** sounds good

He pockets the phone just as it buzzes, probably the address. Hopefully it wasn’t that far from Garp’s place. That was one of the big downsides to the terms: They couldn’t disclose where they were staying to each other. 

The backpack is emptied, measly contents spilled over and onto the bed. Like hell he was carrying all the clothes back in his hands. He eyes the jacket heavily, then the open window. It looked hot, but was he willing to wear the oversize tank again? No. The answer was no.

He puts on the jacket over the sweatshirt.

The address shows up in his phone’s map as a seven minute drive. He sighs, throwing the money into the bag’s front pocket and slipping it on. He texts back that he would be late and then realizes there’s another problem he has to solve before he can leave. He doesn’t have a house key.

Searches of the kitchen, living room, and entryway don’t reveal a key copy or other note. He eyes the front door, debating leaving it unlocked. But he doesn’t know the neighborhood, and Garp seemed swell enough -it wouldn’t do any good to piss him off.

He opts to go out the back door instead, since the area was fenced in. Leaving it unlocked shouldn’t be a problem. Just in case, he slips back into what was now his room and grabs the crumpled note, doing his best to flatten it out. He flips it to the back and pulls out a fat marker from his bag, jotting a quick note to leave the door unlocked for Garp should he come home before Sabo. He folds the tape over and sticks it to the door.

Taking a bus probably wasn’t a viable option right now. At least he avoided any unwanted attention. As much as it sucked, being denied his ripped and abused clothes was probably for the best.

When he gets to the small strip mall, he feels gross. The back of his shirt was sticking to his skin, and his mouth is dry. He pulls out his phone.

“Sabo-kun!”

A sharp intake of breath happens at the same time as he fumbles the phone, only just managing to not drop it. He turns and his eyes immediately go to the drink in Koala’s hands, ice cubes floating in something pink.

She watches him for another moment with a knowing smirk before offering the drink, which he snatches greedily. He flips the straw and ends up downing half, thanking her profusely afterward. She laughs him off, then pulls him in for a hug. He stills for a moment before reciprocating it. 

“It’s good to see you,” Koala says, hushed. Then she pulls back. “C’mon, we can start at this one.” With a wink she leads him to the first clothing store.

He leaves back to Garp’s house with a full backpack, hands still carrying a few bags just because he’s unlucky like that. He’s now acquired some sweats, pants, cargo shorts, shirts, a couple tank tops that actually  _ fit _ , and a decent sized bottle of all-in-one shampoo and conditioner. He’d also bought Koala lunch, as payment for her helping him.

The place they picked had a tv turned to one of the local news stations. They’d ordered to go.

He heaves himself up over the fence and drops down to the sight of the note still taped to the back door. Perfect. It opens and he nearly collapses inside, air conditioner hitting him just perfectly.

It’s mid-afternoon and Garp still isn’t back. Well. The man did have a job. Strangely enough, Sabo didn’t know exactly what he did for the government. Something with security, he assumed. SWAT, maybe? Police work? Who knows.

The closet was entirely empty, and in that moment he is eternally grateful for Koala’s insight to swipe the hangers. He peels off the jacket and tosses it to the carpet. After a moment of deliberation, he opts for another shower. 

He feels much better with his hair clean and his skin not smelling of sweat. Asking Garp about laundry was another task he’d have to sort out. He throws back on the sweatshirt and new sweats, pushing everything else to a corner. He’d worry about it later.

The living room seems inviting enough, so he settles on one of the couches and flips on the tv.

_ “I think it is a good thing. But there’s something not everyone is grasping just yet. We’re all relieved that the terrorists can’t cause trouble, right? They’ve disbanded, but that doesn’t mean-” _

He switches it off.

He’s suddenly very, very tired. The couch is welcoming, comfortable enough. He sags into it.

When he wakes it’s dark. There’s a light from the kitchen. He sits up just as Garp comes out, and they both take a moment to size each other up.

Garp breaks the silence. “Tired?”

“I need a hobby,” Sabo grumbles, turning away.

Garp shrugs. “As long as it’s legal. I got you a key.” It makes a noise as it lands on the table. Sabo reaches for it.

“Can I do laundry?”

Garp’s laugh is a loud, belting thing that triggers an emotion in Sabo that he hasn’t been able to process. It sends him on edge either way. 

“You live here now, kiddo. Knock yourself out. I gotta head back, might be home in the morning.” He offers Sabo a small wave. “See ya.”

Day one is uneventful.

\--

Day 23

  
  


It’s days later that Garp finds him again on the couch, facing a blank tv screen. It’s an odd hour for him to be home, but Sabo supposes irregular shifts are a part of his job. He doesn’t see much of Garp, really.

His eyes flick over as the man comes to sit on the other couch in the room, this one facing the front windows. They eye each other for a minute before Garp sighs and leans forward.

“What about school?”

Sabo perks a brow. “What?”

“You haven’t found a hobby, obviously.” He shrugs. “The university on this side of town is nice enough. I could pull some strings, get you an application. You did finish high school, right?”

“No.”

Garp whistles, lowly. “Damn. Well, I could pull some strings. What do you say?”

“What would I study?”

“Anything you want. Or nothing at all. You could take classes that interest you.”

He thinks on it, but it doesn’t take long to decide. He’s not interested in anything. He’s played so long at a different lifestyle that conforming back to society is hard. He can’t live with Garp his whole life, but he’s in no position to decide when he can up and leave. Until then, nothing’s stopping him from  _ not _ getting a job, from blending with society only on a surface level, and being dependent and non-self-serving under that. 

But that’s boring. He misses the excitement, the action, the unknowing. The anticipation of what would go wrong. 

“School’s not for me,” he ends up saying.

Garp sits on that thought for a few minutes. Sabo’s turned his head away when he leans back. 

“You should make some friends.”

He replies without a beat missed. “I have friends.”

“Some new friends. Some that don’t have criminal records as long as my arm.”

He smirks. That was an understatement. “Yeah. I’ll think on it.”

Later, he finds himself texting Koala. Again. 

**[ 5:40 ] ** where does one go to obtain friends

**[ 5:52 ]** Are you serious right now

**[ 5:53 ] ** yes

**[ 5:53 ]** You can’t just buy friends like you buy bread

**[ 5:53 ] ** i am aware

**[ 5:53 ]** You really need help for this?

**[ 5:53 ]** Really?

**[ 5:53 ]** Really??

**[ 5:54 ] ** how have i put up with you for so long

**[ 5:54 ]** -Koala, daily, because of sabo

**[ 5:54 ] ** youre insufferable

**[ 5:55 ]** Fine. I’ll give you a number

**[ 5:55 ]** Make a friend

**[ 5:55 ]** (contact attached)

That was interesting. He frowns and swipes on the number, opening up a new conversation. Well. If things got awkward he could always block them. They didn’t have to ever meet. That was slightly reassuring.

**[ 5:55 ]** hi this is sabo, koala told me to message you

**[ 6:02 ]** Yeah?

**[ 6:02 ]** yeah

**[ 6:03 ]** Interesting

**[ 6:03 ]** so uh. im not good at the whole making friends thing

**[ 6:03 ]** Alright. Meet me at the bookstore off 4th and Brown, 3pm tomorrow.

**[ 6:04 ]** I look forward to meeting you, Sabo.

That was decidedly creepy and he was blaming it on Koala. Still, wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He’d go, play along. 

They had never said their name. That was interesting enough.

\--

Day 24

  
  


The bookstore door opens with the chime of an attached bell. Sabo eyes it for a moment before stepping through. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot as he moves further in, nodding to the cashier in the corner trying to gain his eye. 

It’s a few minutes before three, so he wanders until he finds an abandoned table at a relatively empty section of the store and settles down to wait. He twiddles his fingers and glances around at the shelves, a few titles on spines catching his attention. His phone is before him on the table, and he debates telling Koala’s friend his location, so they could find him. Before he can, a voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Sabo Triste. How intriguing to find you here.”

He clamps down on his lips, head swiftly turning to see one Robin Nico approaching his table. Her dark eyes catch his for a moment before she slips into the chair across from him. He forces himself to breathe.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“Yes.” Robin thumbs through her phone for a moment before sliding it across the table. “Me.”

He stares at it. It’s the same conversation from yesterday. When he looks up, Robin is smiling at him, but it’s not malicious or arrogant or anything he would’ve expected from a member of Cipher Pol. It’s just a smile, bare of any malintent.

“I see you’ve acquired new clothes.”

He leans back in his chair, pushing her phone to her. “Do you need the shirt back?”

Her eyes widen just a smidge and she muffles a laugh, shaking her head. “No no. I told you it was an old one of Franky’s, right? Doesn’t fit him anymore. It’s yours.”

He debates calling Koala, right then and there. She gave him a number to one of the people that ruined their lives. She insinuated he become  _ friends _ with- wait. 

“You’re friends with Koala?” 

“If that’s how she views it, then sure.” That smile is back, or had it never really left? “I made sure she had settled in, that there were no problems. Offered advice.” She leans back as well, relaxing as much as one could in a hard-backed chair. “How are you doing, Sabo?”

He shrugs. “Fine.”

“Yet you’ve resorted to trying to befriend strangers.” She’s met with silence, and after another moment, glances around the shop. “This is my favorite bookstore, you know.”

“I like the atmosphere. It’s big, yet still cluttered. The old wooden floor, the mismatch of shelves, they really give off how long it’s been around. The staff is friendly, but not overbearing. The books are cheap.” She sighs. “Better than any library in the city, for casual reads.”

He hadn’t done that in awhile. Everything he’d read over the past five years had to do with geography, star tracking, navigation. Memorizing maps and prominent roadways, being able to guide others remotely, predicting where foes would be stationed. Coming up with regroup locations, finding lost teammates, navigating through elaborate floor plans. Those were the skills he had worked to hone until he could perform them seamlessly, had researched and read about, had people depend on him for. Fiction reading was a pastime he’d had as a kid. 

But he doesn’t miss the way his gaze caught on certain titles before, mind intrigued. It would be a way to kill time. He hums to acknowledge her words.

“I want to give you something.”

He looks up at this, watching Robin slide a book out of her lap and onto the table. 

“It’s an older story, but it’s one of my favorites. I think you’ll enjoy it.” That smile is back, and Sabo can now place an emotion to it: knowing. “This isn’t my copy, of course, so there’s no need for you to return it. I bought it earlier. If someone questions you, the receipt is still in the back.”

He picks it up, turning it over and leafing through some pages. It was an aged copy, but not in poor condition by any means. 

“Why?”

Robin tips her head. “Pardon?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You wanted a friend, right?” She shuffles in her chair, tipping forward to rest her elbow on the table, and her chin in palm. “If you’re not interested, I understand. I am here for you, though, Sabo. If you need anything, you can come to me.” She shrugs. “If you’d like, you can delete my number and never contact me again. Or, I could keep supplying you books.” She stands them, tucking her phone back into a pocket. There’s noise from above, a dull roaring that signifies rain pelting the roof. Robin glances over at him. “Do you have an umbrella?”

He didn’t. “I can wait it out here. There’s not a lack of things to do.”

She nods. “Good point. Well, I’ll see you some other time, Sabo.”

She’s turning to leave and Sabo’s still questioning everything, but he still stops her, calling out her name. When she turns back, he swallows a bit of his pride and rests his hands on the book. “Thanks.”

Her smile is gentle. “Anytime.”

\--

Day 33

  
  


“I need you to run some errands for me.”

He’s lying in the living room, stretched across a couch with book in hand. It was surprisingly good, he could see why Robin liked it so much. Garp’s words catch him off-guard, mostly because he was so engrossed in reading he hadn’t noticed the other’s arrival. 

“Like what?”

“Easy things. Shopping, mostly. I’ll leave a list, and some cash.” He shrugs. He does that a lot. “Something to do.”

“Sure.” He turns back to his book. But he’s not paying attention, processing Garp’s words. He turns back before long. “Thanks.”

Garp doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face is telling. He appreciates it.

\--

Day 34

  
  


Sabo wakes to his phone buzzing by his ear. It’s instinct that has him snatching it up before he’s fully awake, finger mashing on the accept call button. “Hello?”

“ _ Turn on the news _ .”

He’s already sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “Koala? Wha-? What channel-”

“Any _ channel, just do it! _ ”

“Okay okay.” He stands up, yawning, and pads into the living room. “What time is it?”

“ _ Five _ .”

5am news. “This had better be good,” he mutters, mostly to himself, but he doesn’t miss Koala’s snort from the other end of the receiver. He reaches for the remote and switches the tv on.

“- _ Just tuning in, our panel is discussing the probability of the disbanded terrorist group The Revolutionaries still residing somewhere within the country.” _

He feels his eyes widen more than he acknowledges it. His hand loosens around his phone. “What is this.”

“ _ What they’ve dug up so far, _ ” Koala grounds out. 

“ _ Oh absolutely this is possible. It’s more than likely they’ve been granted some sort of amnesty, though for  _ why _ I’m not certain at all. _ ” The camera pans over to a different person on screen. “ _ Think about it. There’s a chance these people could be your neighbors, your grocers, your coworkers and employees. They are definitely still in the country, and that is close enough for me folks- _ ”

He turns away from the tv, pacing across the room. “What does this mean?”

“ _ Nothing, for now. Just be careful. We’ve- _ ” She swallows. “ _ We’ve gotta start tracking what they come up with, how close they’re getting. _ ”

“This could get big, then,” Sabo concludes.

“ _ Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ve gotta go. Bye, Sabo. _ ”

“Bye.”

He uses the remote still in hand to switch off the tv, turning off the comment of some “expert” brought in for analysis. His feet carry him to Garp’s bedroom, but it was empty. A search of the garage and driveway revealed his car was gone. 

There was no one to act as a soundboard to his thoughts, so they start collecting internally. A month ago, Mariejois’ government had released a statement declaring the disbandment of terrorist group The Revolutionaries. It was vague, it was bland, and very quickly it led from widespread relief to public suspicion, the media latching on to hype and launching segments on why such a bare amount of information had been given.

It morphed into fear, questioning, more suspicions. More time spent wondering why the group had been disbanded, instead of paying for their crimes. More theories on who The Revolutionaries were, why their names hadn’t been released, why they weren’t incriminated, or executed, even. 

This was the first concrete thing reporters had managed to come up with. Though he wanted to deny it, it was becoming very real that this might be the start of a downhill slope.

He dials a number, taking a seat near the door and resisting the urge to chew on his blunt nails. It picks up after one ring.

“ _ Triste. It’s quite early. Is everything okay? _ ”

“Robin, have you seen the news?” He says it in a jumbled mass, rushed, and it takes a moment for her to respond.

“ _ I’ve been alerted to the developments, but it’s nothing to get worked up over, Sabo. There are natural conclusions the people will come to, however, they can’t know everything from educated guesses. There’s a reason authorities have been so tight-lipped about it. _ ”

“But-”

“ _ Sabo, _ ” Robin interrupts, gently. “ _ You shouldn’t stress over these things. Once they get to a wall they can’t reach over, the people will gradually lose interest. Everything will be fine. _ ” She pauses. “ _ Have you finished the book? _ ”

His pulse is slowing. He lets her words process, drown out his anxiety. “Yeah,” he manages to respond. “Last night. It was good.”

“ _ I’m glad you enjoyed it. Shall I give you another? _ ”

This . . This was okay. He could accept this. Robin was a good person. If Koala trusted her, he could put faith in that. 

Besides, he needed a friend.

“I’d like that.”

\--

Before Sabo can spend time fretting over the increasing amount of public suspicion, he has a list to get through.

The things Garp left him to do are fairly straightforward, and not at all what he expected. On the list of errands, one of the things is to buy a bag of limes. He hoped there wasn’t any special deduction needed to pick them out, because he’d certainly never done that before. 

So he was at the nearby market now, at the limes stand, a thin plastic bag in hand. A few already sat inside, and he was looking over the rest. How much constituted a bag was anyone’s guess, but he’d say about seven would do. Maybe eight.

After the limes adventure was procuring some dry-cleaning from a location further from the house than he expected. At least he had suitable clothes to now counteract the heat of midday. All he had to do was pick up the suits, no payment necessary, but the lady was oddly insistent that Garp usually bought some sort of fabric softener while picking up items as well. Sabo didn’t even know they sold products at dry-cleaning locations but, well, to each their own. It was Garp’s money, so he goes ahead and buys the stuff. He could use it as well.

There was no way he was walking around anymore with all his luggage, so he picks his way back to the house. The limes go in the freezer, strangely, but that’s what was written down. He hangs the clothes on the doorknob of Garp’s room. 

Once he’s in the house he lets the fear slowly edge its way back into his mind, and after contemplating the downsides for a good minute, he goes ahead and throws himself down in his bed. His phone opens and he browses the internet to a well-played video, hesitating for only a moment before starting it. The audio grates at his ears. He doesn’t turn the volume down.

_ “As of June 4, XX, terrorist group The Revolutionaries has been successfully disbanded. _

_ Just now, the government of Mariejois has released this shocking official statement. No other details have been provided at this time, but it’s clear that the days of terror The Revolutionaries have fostered is finally over. It’s unclear now whether the terrorists are detained or otherwise being held for further questioning. _

_ It’s definitely odd for such a statement to be so bland. Usually notices such as this come with an attached summary, but this is leaving heads spinning. Will there be a trial? A sentencing? No one knows. _

_ No such information about The Revolutionaries, a terrorist group credited with the destruction of multiple government buildings, assassination of public officials, and other heinous acts, has been revealed. The public is still in the dark about who leads the group, what their numbers are, heck, even what their purpose is.  _

_ It’s not like these people have broadcasted themselves either. We still don’t know why their actions are, to them, justified. We don’t their motives, their end game. And now they’re just suddenly no longer a threat? This is the group that’s had people on edge for  _ years.  _ I, for one, would like to know who exactly has been behind all the senseless, needless violence.” _

Sabo’s phone dies before the video can continue. He stares at the blank screen for another moment, the last words still bouncing around, echoing in his head. Then he reaches over the edge of the bed for his charger cord and plugs it into his phone.

While that was charging, he wanders into the bathroom, feeling his greasy hair through his fingers. A glance in the mirror makes him pause, eyeing the length with trepidation. It was longer than he wanted. 

Usually he would have Inazuma cut it for him, but it had now been over a month since he had last seen the man. He didn’t really want to bother him, either, not knowing what he was up to these days. Besides, there really wasn’t a public place to give a haircut. And it wasn’t like they could go to someone else’s location, that would still be a violation of terms.

He purses his lips. Maybe Garp had a pair of scissors lying around.

After his shower, with his hair freshly washed and hanging limp around his shoulders, Sabo searches and comes up empty. He actually discovers something while he’s looking -there were no sharp objects whatsoever to be found. No scissors, no kitchen knives, no razor blades, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Garp comes in later and he brings it up.

“Your hair . . ?” He pauses to look at Sabo, eyeing him carefully. It was clear to the blonde that Garp thought he’d be a shoddy job at a trim. He wasn’t exactly wrong, it would be less than perfect. But someone had to do it.

With a sigh, he wanders over to a drawer in the kitchen and pulls it open, revealing a couple pairs of scissors under stacks of paper. He pulls one out, but instead of handing it over, looks at Sabo again. This time the blonde can’t read the emotions playing on his face.

“You . .” Garp’s lips purse. “You’re not going to attack me with these, right?”

Sabo shrugs. “No?” There wasn’t really a point. Plus, Garp was a big guy. Sabo could hold his own, but against a combat-trained military man of Garp’s stature, armed with only a pair of scissors, he probably didn’t stand much of a chance. And there was the fact that that was a definite breach of the terms. Not to mention if he wasn’t dragged off to prison, he’d at the very least be sent away to a new home. And living here was fine enough. He’d done it long enough to know there weren’t much restrictions. It was nice.

Garp hands him the scissors. He also makes a point to open a cabinet in front of Sabo and rummage through the back until he pulled out a handful of knives and put them in the cutting block one by one. His gaze meets Sabo’s more than once.

“I’m trusting you with these,” he tells him. Sabo can only nod.

“Did you get my limes?”

“Yeah. And some fabric softener.”

“Ah.” Garp lets out a laugh. “She got you too, huh? Well, that’s fine.” He trudges over to the freezer and pulls one of the limes out, nodding in satisfaction at its hardness. “Good, you did good. Thank you.”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

Cutting his own hair turns out much worse than he thought it would. It’s lopsided, longer on one side than the other, and the back is completely uneven. It is shorter, though, which is all that matters. 

He maybe should not have done it over the sink. Because now there is a decent pile of his own disembodied hair sitting over the drain, and he’s going to have to pick it out by hand and throw it in the trash, because washing it down the tiny drain seems both impractical and impossible.

He leaves it for another day and heads to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was totally completely inspired by Like a Shotgun by Blackkat, i love that story and will continue to love it until im dead, please do yourself a favor and read it its great and hilarious and /great/.
> 
> non-regular updates bc im trying to space out until i finish. i'll probably have the next bit up in a week or so, but that's all i can promise. if you like this so far, please say so!! it's so hard to continue to produce content with little to no validation, especially for writers. 
> 
> my lovely, amazing artist is @cyanello on tumblr, theyve dealt w my shit for half a year and the piece they did for this is amazing. as soon as i get to that point in the story here, i'll include it in the chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

[ 2 days before release of statement ]

They’re eating dinner in the compound when Garp drops a bomb on him.

“Dragon’s my son.”

Sabo chokes on his food. It’s a good, long minute of coughing, something that should be concerning, but he gets over it and stares at Garp with wide eyes.

“What,” he rasps.

Garp shrugs. “Yeah, thought you should know. Shock, I realize. We don’t look  _ that _ much alike. We certainly don’t share the same set of morals, or views of the world. Not much in common, really. But it’s the truth.”

The TV noise in the background turns further into mindless droning, and Sabo completely tunes it out in favor of listening to Garp. “So your full name is . . ?”

“Garp D Monkey.” He grins. “Don’t ask about the D.”

Funny, Dragon had said the same thing, back when Sabo and he exchanged names. Well, more like Sabo cast out his name, and Dragon offered his own in solidarity. And then literally offered it, and Sabo had to decline because  _ Sabo Monkey _ was just unflattering. 

And then here was Garp, parading the odd surname around like it was something to be proud of.

Right, okay, time to back up. He was going to be living with Dragon’s dad. Dragon’s  _ dad. _ That was . . wow. That was . .

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Garp tells him, effectively snapping him out of his head. Sabo stares.

“Does he know I’m with you?”

“None of you know where each other will live,” Garp offers in response. “That includes my son. And no, there’s not any chance of him casually stopping by, either. We’ve been estranged for years. It’s been . . ah, well, how long have The Revolutionaries been around?”

That makes sense. It was disappointing, what he wouldn’t do to see Dragon again, but perhaps his expectations had been a little too high. He was lucky enough to be allowed to leave. From what he’d seen of Garp so far, he seemed like a swell enough guy. Maybe being under his supervision wouldn’t be so bad.

\--

Day 74

  
  


Dragon was the sole exception to the contact rule.

As their former leader, he wasn’t allowed to be in touch with any of them. Sabo didn’t even know if Dragon was in the city. All he knew was that he was released, just like the rest of them. It was good and all that he could idly talk with Koala, at least be privy to the group’s wellbeing, but Dragon could be dead and Sabo not know.

It hits him hard one day. The room he’s now occupying could have been Dragon’s in childhood. He’s marching around the same space that Dragon once had. 

And possibly the last time he had ever talked to the man was over two months ago. He shudders at the thought. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case. Hopefully he would see Dragon again at some point in his life.

Hopefully.

He’s in the kitchen chopping up stuff for a sandwich when his phone buzzes. A glance reveals an unknown number, which is strange, but he answers anyways.

“ _ Sabo! I’ll be home early today, in about half an hour. I left my garage opener there so I’ll need you to pop it open for me. _ ”

“Garp.” His eyes deadpan as he thinks. “You have my number.” 

“ _ Right, well, just wanted to let you know that. _ ” What an excellent way of dodging the question. Sabo mentally sighs. Did the government have everyone’s numbers, then? Maybe just Robin, and she’d given them out. Either option wasn’t very good to hear. He’d have to let the others know.

“Okay, noted. Bye, Garp.” He hangs up before the other could finish, tossing his phone across the island counter with a deep sigh. 

It’s when he’s slicing tomatoes that something odd occurs. There’s a scratching that makes him pause, grip automatically tightening around the small saw-toothed blade. He tips his head in the direction of the front door when the sound stops, replaced by something turning in the lock.

Usually he’d write it off as Garp and ignore it, but that phone call a minute ago has his thoughts turning elsewhere. The door jerking open has him in motion.

He sets down the sawtooth in favor of a smooth edge, blade longer than his hand. It takes a couple steps forward for him to realize he’s still holding it like he would a kitchen knife, and wastes no time in flipping it over, holding it in front of him. A moment later he snags the other one, too, stuffing it down his pants. Can never be too prepared.

The door shuts again and Sabo’s stepping out into the main room when a bag drops. He moves back, gaze flicking up to the figure when they move, hood guarding their face, and he flips the knife over again in his hand. When they turn to face Sabo, and their hand goes up, he wastes no time in throwing his weapon, letting it embed itself deep into the front door.

It’s a guy, maybe about Sabo’s age. As Sabo lowers his throwing arm, the hood fully falls off his face, hand reached up to take it off still frozen. Grey eyes gaze back at him, blown wide. Then they move to the door, where the knife rests a couple inches from his head. Then back at him.

Sabo crosses his arms. “Who are you?”

The guy sputters. “Who am- Who the hell are  _ you _ ?” His head flips rapidly from the knife to Sabo. “What are you doing in my grandpa’s house?!”

Oh. That uh. That was a game changer.

He falters. Lets his arms relax. Blinks, slowly. “There’s been a misunderstanding, then.”

As if on cue, a voice booms from outside. “ _ Why is there a knife in my door? _ ”

Oops. Guess it did go all the way through.

The guy in front of him -Garp’s grandson, the thought is still wild- jumps at the shout, then scrubs his hands through his hair. “Shit,” he hisses, “He wasn’t supposed to be home.” And in the same breath the door comes open.

Garp stops in the entryway, one hand still on the doorframe. The knife did go through. He casts a cursory glance to the kid and then his eyes land on Sabo. His mouth falls open a little. “I now understand the situation.”

The door closes. The windows are open, and since it’s afternoon, plenty of light fills the room. Still, Garp flips the switch to turn the lights on and grabs the hilt in the door with the other hand, wrenching it out easily. He eyes it for a moment, turns it over, and then drops the arm.

“Sabo, this is my grandson, Ace.” Garp shrugs.

“That’s been established.”

“Fine. Ace, this is Sabo. He lives here now.” Then he squints. “Ace, what are you doing here?”

“None of your damn business,” Ace snaps, still eyeing the knife. “The fuck? If you understand what’s happening, then explain. There’s a hole in your door now! Shouldn’t you be more concerned?!”

“A door can be replaced.” Garp belts out a laugh. He moves forward to set the knife on the back of the couch, then turns fully to Ace. “And don’t talk to me that way! I’m still your grandpa, you know.” He raises a fist. “Do I need to beat some sense into ya?”

“No, no!” Ace’s arms flail. “Absolutely not.”

Before he can continue, Sabo speaks, thoughts stuck on what this information revealed. “Dragon has a son?” He asks Garp, tone more on the accusing and mildly mortified side.

“Well, yeah.” Garp scratches his beard. “It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, though I guess he wouldn’t talk about the kid much.”

Sabo eyes Ace in a new light. He gets a sharp look in return, and then Garp catches on.

“Oh no, not Ace. His boy’s name is Luffy, he’s younger. Ace is just my grandson.”

That makes no sense to Sabo. He tries to portray this to Garp without speaking, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Garp nods towards his waist. “What’s in your pocket?”

He looks down. The juice still on the sawtooth had stained his pants. He plucks it out, not missing the way Ace flinches back. “Tomato knife.”

“Right.” Garp rolls his eyes. “Throw that in the sink and go change. Ace, you can’t leave until you tell me why you’re here.”

“Fuck you!”

As they dissolve into a loud argument, Sabo pads back to the kitchen. He drops the knife in the sink and eyes his pants again. Sabo is  _ not _ used to treating stains, and two months of being away from a lifestyle where he’d acquired them near-constantly was not nearly enough time to unadjust to it. But Garp was different, and he opts to trust the old man’s judgement. With a sigh he abandons the cutting board for longer, heading to his room.

By the time he emerges, clad in sweats, Garp is nowhere in sight and Ace is lounged across one of the couches, a chip bag lying on his stomach. The tv is on, but he’s scrolling through his phone instead of paying it mind. Sabo’s eye catches on to the low table.

“Were those my tomatoes?”

Ace looks up. “Oh. Yeah.” 

Sabo sighs, Ace’s attention back on his phone. Or so he thinks, but he says something else.

“It’s payment, for nearly killing me and all.”

“My aim is perfect,” he mutters, but Ace gives no response.

He wanders back into the kitchen. It’s weird, having someone there. He’s used to an empty house or Garp, just Garp. The two were clear distinctions, and the situation now was neither one of them. 

Plus, his head was still reeling from the fact that Dragon had a child. He’d definitely inform Koala of this.

He’s just finished washing the cutting board when a voice interrupts his thoughts.

“So why are you here?”

He turns. Ace is leaning against the entryway. His arms are crossed, phone nowhere in sight.

Hm. Maybe Garp had left. Fine, he’d take this how he could.

“I live here.”

“No shit. I mean  _ what’s the reason _ ?” Ace chews on his lip, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You under some sort of witness protection?”

He resists the grin pulling at his lips. Sabo had a rap sheet taller than his person, but Ace didn’t need to know that. He leans back against the counter. “No.”

Ace stares at him. Sabo doesn’t offer anything else. 

“You gonna answer or . . ?”

“Nope,” he says cheerily, finally pulling his lips up. 

Ace scowls, then turns and walks out of the kitchen. When Sabo follows a minute later, the front door is already sliding shut.

Guess he got what he came for.

\--

Day 81

  
  


“ _ No way. He’s messing with you. _ ”

“I don’t think so. His other grandson didn’t seem to question it.” Sabo adjusts the phone on his shoulder before reaching back into the dryer, pulling out a wad of clothes to sort through.

“ _ His other grandson who isn’t related to Dragon? _ ”

“That appears to be the case, dear Tiger.” His hands meet with blue fabric and he straightens out his sweatshirt, sighing at its appearance. The fabric softener had done wonders, but the copious amounts of stain removal he’d applied hadn’t even put a dent in the blood splattered on it. Well, he couldn’t be too disappointed. Every stain had a story, good or bad.

“ _ Don’t call me that _ ,” Koala hisses lowly over the line. Then, louder, “ _ That’s so weird to think about. Who’s the kid’s mother? _ ”

Sabo shuts the dryer and rises from his crouch, taking the phone proper again. “Hell if I know. Dunno that I wanna know, either.”

“ _ Aww, you’re no fun! _ ” There’s a brief pause before Koala speaks again. “ _ Do you think Robin would know? _ ”

“Good question.” He hefts all his folded clothes into his arms, exiting the space into the kitchen. “Whatever she says, leave me out of it. It’s already weird enough thinking I’m occupying the same space as the kid.” His nose wrinkles as an old thought surfaces. How he could be staying not in Dragon’s old room, but  _ Luffy’s _ -

“ _ Hey, I gotta go, _ ” Koala says, breaking him from his head. She hangs up before he can reply.

-

Day 102

  
  


Sabo wakes from his nap to muffled noise coming from beyond his closed door. He thinks nothing of it, assuming Garp had the television on. But he’s already awake, so going back to sleep now would be pointless.

He rubs his eyes as he pads into the living room, and when his arms drop, immediately finds Ace on a corner the couch. He has enough time to see the notebook in his lap, pen poised over a page, before the other catches on.

Ace’s head jerks up and blue and grey have a silent battle of wills. Sabo cops out first, gesturing to the TV. It was turned to a news station. “What’s the occasion? You use all of Garp’s stuff while he’s away?”

“Power’s down at my place,” he replies, face now screwed up in irritation. “What about you? Garp into prostitution now?”

He widens his eyes for dramatics, looking around. “I hope not!” he says in mock-concern. “What would I, a young lad of twenty-five, be exposing myself to?”

Ace snorts and turns back to his notebook. He’s distracted though, dropping the pen to tap a few keys on the open laptop in front of him. “So we’re the same age, then,” he mutters.

Sabo’s hearing is sharp enough to pick the words up over the noise from the TV. That was interesting.

He takes a chance, moving from his door further into the main room. “That school work?” he asks, gesturing to the items around Ace.

Ace looks up to eye him again, but stops after a moment, jerking his head in a no. “Research.” He grabs for the remote, turning up the volume a little. “On all this. Now shh!”

Sabo’s eye twitches, but the annoyance is nothing to the trepidation brewing in his gut. The news anchors were talking about The Revolutionaries, like always. Which meant he was stepping into hot water.

He slips out of the room and looks around in the kitchen for a note from Garp, but there is none. Hm. Guess that leaves him more free time today.

He texts Robin about the hair product she’d been wanting to give him, and the two set to meet at the bookstone so Sabo could trade off the paperback she’d lent him earlier in the week.

Not for the first time, Sabo wonders what Robin’s job entailed. For a Cipher Pol agent, she sure had a remarkable amount of free time.

He drops his phone back into a free pocket at this thought. It was probably for the best that he didn’t know.

Koala’s words from weeks ago come back to him, as sound from the living room carries to his location. Perhaps, if he did this right, he could learn more about what the public thought. He was supposed to be keeping track of it, after all.

He could be careful. Maybe Ace wasn’t that perceptive. And Robin’s word about natural conclusions made sense, too. If there was nothing to work with, people would only get so far.

Sabo walks over and drapes his arms over the back of the couch, eyes locked onto the screen even as he sees Ace stiffen and turn from his peripherals. “What are they saying now?”

Acd watches him for another moment before scribbling in his notebook. “Speculation on numbers,” he answers. “Based on all their known past ops, and all that. It’s still in early stages, but most are saying it can’t be more than fifteen.”

“Past ops,” Sabo echoes. “So they’re seeing it as a recurring cast. What about the opposite, though? A rotating group that switches with each task.”

Ace is pecking at his laptop again. “That’s more useful for sacrificial pawns, like that group in Alabasta all those years ago. Plus, everything is too specialized, too similar to the next, to be different people.”

Sabo blinks, and then slides onto the couch proper, sitting beside Ace. “You’ve really thought this out.”

“It doesn’t matter in the end, who finds them.” Ace shrugs. “I’m interested, so I’m looking into it myself. The people deserve to know who they are, and they need to pay for their crimes.”

Sabo’s pause might have been too long, but in the face of Ace’s conviction, it was necessary. He tries not to think much of it. “And the notebook?”

Ace turns fully to face him, grey eyes narrowed. “How do you know Luffy’s dad?”

Oh. That. Sabo chews on his lip, looks back at the TV. “That’s . . a long story,” he eventually says.

Ace seems to accept this. He flips the book closed so Sabo sees the number two sprawled out, big and bold, across the cover. “They’re my own theories,” Ace admits. After Sabo doesn’t immediately dismiss him, he continues. “For this one I’ve marked the base at fifteen, but I’m pretty sure it’s lower. I’ve been reading about one of their ops from two years ago, when-”

A shrill ringing cuts him off. As Ace hurries to grab for his phone, Sabo sits there, head reeling. So he was really into it. What had he gotten himself into.

Ace looks at the ID and lets out a grunt that Sabo can’t distinguish the emotion of. Somewhere between annoyance and resignment.

Ace answers and the conversation is so loud Sabo can hear both sides. He turns to watch the TV, pretending he doesn’t.

“ _ Ace! Get over here, we can’t talk shit about you without you being present! _ ”

“Lami,” Ace grounds out. “I’m busy. I’m watching the news-”

“ _ That’s so not an excuse. Just watch it online later! _ ”

“You know they only put clips on the internet-”

“ _ Record it, then! _ ”

“I’m not home! I’m at Garp’s place, and I really don’t want an excuse to come back-”

“ _ Oh boo hoo. Ace, goddamn, how old  _ are  _ you? _ ” The girl’s -Lami’s- voice grows shrill. “ _ I’m Ace, and I make bad excuses to get out of seeing my wonderful friends- _ ”

“Quit it,” Ace snaps, glancing at Sabo, who pretends not to notice, but turns up the TV volume anyways.

“ _ Look, we’re at Caven’s shop and Law bailed. Come hang out with us! And -oh what? Oh! Nojiko needs your opinion on these tangerine tarts. Come on, Ace! Food! Free food! _ ”

“Fine! I’ll be there soon!” Ace hangs up and makes to throw his phone across the room, but stops before he can complete the motion. Instead, he drops his arms and sighs.

“If I come back tonight, will gramps be here?”

“Dunno.” Sabo shrugs, then hands him the remote. Ace takes it weakly. “His schedule is . . . fluid.”

Ace snorts. “Hasn’t changed, then. Right, guess I’m doing this.” He pushes the record button for the current program, then skips between a few channels to cover later content. After, he gathers his stuff and dumps it into his bag, slinging that over his shoulder. It’s a hurried and relatively quiet affair.

In a rare moment -or maybe not? He didn’t really know Ace- Ace turns and nods to him. “See ya, I guess.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Sabo finds himself replying. “Good luck with the friends.”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Fiends, more like. They do know how to rope me in, though.”

As the front door shuts, Sabo thinks he might could count this as a good encounter.

-

Day 104

  
  


Ace comes back a couple days later, when Sabo’s getting in from running errands, a plastic bag around his wrist. He’s fumbling for his key when a noise makes him look up to see Ace pushing the door open, a similar key in his outstretched hand.

Well, it’s not like he had anything better to do.

After Sabo’s put his things away, he joins Ace in the living room, where a similar spread to the one last time is already set up. Ace is paging through the recordings, checking a page on a notepad before selecting a specific one and turning up the volume.

Sabo takes a tentative seat on the adjacent couch. He hadn’t watched the news since the last time Ace was here, so hopefully sitting quietly and watching wouldn’t be an issue.

After Ace skims through a ten-minute segment, he checks the time and switches to real-time cable to record the news airing in a few minutes. Then he goes back to one of the older recordings, skips to the half-hour special, and leans back into the couch, notebook propped on his lap.

During commercial breaks, instead of skipping them, he talks to Sabo.

It’s mostly rambling about what he’s written, but he eventually starts soundboarding, and soon responses become necessary. Sabo panics, slightly. Should he lead him off the trail? Or, throw him enough of a hint for a reasonable conclusion and trust Robin?

Eventually he decides he’s intrigued, so he starts talking, observing Ace’s deductions as they take form. 

Once they’re through the recordings, Ace has narrowed the number from fifteen to eleven. It’s filled with, notably, an inside agent. Sabo internally snorts at the thought. That would be nice, were it true.

Ace switches to the recording of that day’s report and skips to the terrorist talk portion. He’s fumbling with his laptop now, and with Sabo’s question, invites him to sit beside him.

From this new position, Sabo can see a recorder is open on the computer, along with a document that looks like a timeline and some internet tabs in the background. There are enough open that he can’t read the tab titles.

He’s vaguely surprised to find this news crew basically repeating what Ace had just theorized -the Revolutionaries number going down to eleven, an inside operative suspicion, and the possibility of there being three leaders instead of one.

At hearing the last part, Ace hums for a long moment. He looks suspicious, but more ready to disregard the assumption. Still, he dutifully jots stuff down, pen tapping against the paper as he listens to the talking.

“Two years ago, The Revolutionaries broke into a containment facility and freed a large group of people,” Ace suddenly says. They’ve switched to another channel, but it’s still on regular news topics for the moment. “They ended up triggering a gas mechanism that mixed with the air and caused an explosion, destroying half the building. When a few of the freed prisoners were re-captured, they were questioned about the identities of their would-be saviors.” Ace eyes him but doesn’t turn his head or body to properly face him. “Near the site of the explosion, a patch of blood was found. It was tested, but it dead-ended, linking back to a soldier that had died a few years before in a foreign country.”

Sabo shifts in his spot.

“When asked about the blood, one of the prisoners revealed there was a Revolutionary that had been caught in the explosion, and suffered a severe head wound. Specifically, an amount of burning to, what he could tell, the face. He told authorities that was probably where the large amount of blood came from, but couldn’t offer anything about the dead link the blood tested back to. When asked further, he revealed no other information on the burn victim.” Ace stops his tapping and cocks his head towards Sabo. “I have a speculation, but no way to confirm it. How likely was it that the burns left the person blind?”

Sabo bristles at the question, lips threatening to rise in a snarl. “I wasn’t blinded due to this,” he growls, pointing at the scar on the left side of his face.

Ace blinks, otherwise showing no reaction. “I wasn’t insinuating you were,” he tells the blonde. “Besides, this was a large-scale explosion, so the damage must’ve been severe. I’m just trying to figure if one of the terrorists was blinded as a result.”

Sabo forces himself to calm down, but there’s still a bit of bite to his tone. “All accidents are different,” he huffs. “My eye still works, somehow, but all the scarred skin is nerve-dead. It . .” He shudders, shaking his head. When he looks back, Ace seems a bit pained, like he now regretted asking. “I’m not a doctor,” he finally says. “It would depend on how close they were to the explosion, or how fast they got treated. I can’t know for sure. “ He shrugs.

After a minute, Sabo realizes the  _ tap-tap _ of the pen has stopped. He glances up to see Ace still looking at him. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Thank you.”

Sabo shrugs again. The news report special begins. They sit in silence through it.

His phone beeps and he pulls it out to see an unknown number asking for more limes. His nose wrinkles. Garp was out already? What did he even use them for? He grimaces as an image comes to mind, the old man taking a bite out of the frozen fruit, peel and all. Hopefully that wasn’t the case. What a terrifying thought.

After the news is over, Sabo stands and stretches, remarking to Ace about needing to run another errand.

Ace closes his notebook and turns to nod at him. “Okay. Let me go with you, then.”

Sabo thinks on it, but it doesn’t take long. The time spent with the raven had been decent. There was the whole part about him rehashing Sabo’s accident to his face, but it probably was bound to happen, with his cooperation on the overall subject. Ace wasn’t a bad person, just overly-curious on the wrong topics.

“Sure,” he ends up saying. Ace packs his stuff and is slinging his bag over his shoulders a minute later.

It’s cooled down a bit now that it was early evening, and it feels nice. Much better compared to the sauna he’d encountered earlier.

“What are you getting, anyway?” Ace asks, few blocks away from the house and, nicely, the same distance from the store.

“Limes. Garp freezes them.”

Ace’s face screws up. “Ew! He still does that?”

Sabo thinks he shows surprise in his expression, his face pulling taut. “You know of it.”

“He used to do it with clementines. You said he still freezes them?” Sabo nods an affirmation and he grimaces. “I still have nightmares about those. He used to smack me in the head with them so he didn’t have to use his fist. Worst years of my life.”

Sabo imagines there were more uses, but he’s not eager to know, and Ace doesn’t offer them up. They move on to lighter topics as he picks out the fruit.

When they’re all done, Ace parts with him, heading in the opposite direction of Garp’s house.

-

Day 129

  
  


Koala calls him up on a cooler day to force-invite him out for the evening. She won’t specify the location, and the meeting place is nondescript on a far side of town.

“Wear a t-shirt,” she does tell him. So he does, but he throws a jacket over it, and pulls on jeans for good measure. 

Garp isn’t back and Sabo doesn’t feel like leaving a note, so he pockets his key and heads out, phone in hand for navigation.

Koala’s already at their meeting spot, a shopping bag in hand. When Sabo turns up she glares at the jacket until he removes it, then trades him for the bag.

He pulls out a dress shirt, tag still attached. With a raised brow and a glance to Koala, he puts it on over his shirt. It’s a dark blue, bordering on navy, and the material feels like satin.

Koala nods in approval once he’s finished buttoning it, then reaches forward to snap the tag off. “It’s yours now,” she tells him, a noticeable glimmer in her eye.

He smoothes the material down again before replying. “What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, you’ll see. Our stop is right around the corner.” She hands him back his jacket to carry and they move across the street.

It’s not that he was nervous, but for Koala to be so spontaneous . . It was a little out of character, enough to put him on edge.

When they reach their destination he’s almost too shocked for words. “A club?” he manages. Koala is grinning as she pulls open the door.

“It’s special!”

Inside is exactly what he expected. Loud, bright yet dark, a bit cramped. Something unidentifiable that puts him on edge. Koala nods to an older man near the entrance and pulls Sabo further inside, skirting the crowd to move faster.

They’re near a back stage when he hears a loud call of his name over the music, and then he’s suffocating in a too-tight embrace. He struggles for a moment before managing to pull back, eyes level with breasts and red leather and cheap silver beads and-

Oh. Oh!

“Iva!” he gasps, looking up further.

“Sabo darling!” Ivankov exclaims, gathering him into another quick hug. He steps back upon release, and yep, still the same dyed purple coils and lavish -outlandish, actually- full face of makeup. Definitely Ivankov.

“Of course you would be here,” he laughs.

Ivankov perks up, hands on her hips. “I’m always here, I own the place!”

Suddenly he’s not laughing anymore. “What?”

“Yea! Together with Ina-”

“Sabo what is that  _ hair _ ?” A voice from behind him groans and he turns to see Inazuma reaching for one of his chopped locks, eyeing it with distaste.

“Uh. You weren’t around,” he says, words momentarily failing him. Again.

Inazuma sighs, dropping their hands. “Well I’m here now. Come on, we can fix it in the back. It’s too noisy out here anyhow.” They nods to the girls. “You as well, let’s go.”

Sabo knows his face is red before he’s set down in front of a mirror to confirm it. He knew he’d done a shoddy job of cutting his hair, but it was a different matter to have Ina pissed -no, not even that;  _ disappointed _ \- in him.

“I’m kinda liking the different lengths,” Ivankov says from behind. Koala rolls her eyes but doesn’t comment. Inazuma comes back around with a tool kit and hums.

“Maybe it could work. I’ll style it, and if it’s not doing well, we’ll even it out.”

Sabo sinks further in his seat. “Thank you.”

“Promise not to do it again and we’ll be good,” Inazuma says, brandishing scissors.

As his hair gets trimmed, Sabo falls into conversation with everyone. It’s mostly catching up, and it’s still a nice shock to actually be talking to Iva and Inazuma again. There are some interesting things, though.

“You two know where each other live?!” he gasps, head reeling as the two older Revolutionaries show a smile. “How’d you manage that?”

“It wasn’t all that difficult,” Ivankov says, shrugging. “We just met at a place five minutes north of Ina’s location, and then again at a place five minutes south. You connect where they meet then find the middle. Then we did the same for me.”

“Wow,” he breathes. “That . . Did you plan it beforehand?”

“She told me our second meeting,” Inazuma speaks up. “We’ve always had a special sort of coding, after all.”

“To anyone unknowing, it was a regular conversation.”

“Wait, but that wouldn’t reveal an exact building, right?” he asks.

Ivankov shakes her head. “No. But it still gives us an idea, should it be necessary to go after each other.” She gestures around her. “Not like it matters all that much anymore, with this place.”

“Robin helped us out with that,” Inazuma adds.

“Robin?” Sabo shuffles in the seat, causing Inazuma’s vice grip to halt his movements. “Is she doing favors for everyone now?”

“Why not? She’s on our side,” Ivankov admits.

He stills. “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think is behind the leaks, Sabo?” Koala asks. Her eyes are fire from what he can see through the mirror. “Robin realizes the injustice going on.”

And it all makes sense. “The government.”

“What a scam,” Inazuma grounds out. “Promising amnesty, anonymity, for cooperation, then voiding the agreement themselves.”

“At any point they could snap, reveal everything,” Koala barks. “At least Robin is trying to be helpful.”

He suddenly has a newfound appreciation for the raven. It also explained why everyone was taking precautions. Ina and Iva  _ could _ find out exactly where each other were, if they got Crow involved. But Crow being back on the grid might also trigger retaliation by the government, so they had to play the safe method. A pat on both shoulders makes him snap back to the present, where Inazuma is pulling away, and . .

“Oh,” he breathes.

“Yeah I stand by what I said, Sabo darling.” Ivankov coms closer, winks. “This is different, but a good different!”

Inazuma really did do a good job. His bangs curled around his burn scar, but didn’t hide his face on the left side otherwise, while the rest was longer; they curled around his ears on the right side, but the back was shorter, strands ending just before his neck.

Koala snaps a picture before he realizes it’s happening, the flash momentarily blinding him.

“You know where to come if you need it cut again,” Inazuma says, leaning back against the chest their tools rested on.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He slides a lock through his fingers, still not believing it.

“And remember to keep watching the news.” Iva’s words sober him. “We can’t be too careful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt bad that the entire set-up chapter had zero ace in it, so here's this.
> 
> my favorite line of the entire story is in this part hah. thanks for reading -hope you liked it !


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this weekend is going to be. bad. not good at the least. i wanted to get this out then, but i honestly don't know how im gonna feel, so i'm doing it now while i remember. 
> 
> this is the big chapter, and, tho i completely forgot up until now, it's finally the art chapter. i mentioned before, my partner for the big bang is cyanello/tumblr, and i'll link them properly at the end, as well as the piece up on tumblr. i honestly didnt deserve such an amazing partner, please if you like this chapter and/or the artwork, send them a message!! they'd appreciate it, and i would as well.

Day 145

  
  


Letting Ace into his life wasn’t something he planned, but something that just naturally happened.

Garp was never around whenever his grandson was, and from their first interaction Sabo guessed that was intentional. Ace admitted he usually didn’t stop by unless he needed something, his relationship with the military man rocky, but he sure seemed to be around more often than not.

He didn’t mind. The company was nice.

The information he gathered about the news was nice, too, but it was almost secondary when faced with Ace’s sheer presence. There was something about him that drew Sabo in.

It was early afternoon and they were spread out over their respective couches, some old movie Ace had brought playing on the TV. 

It was some baseball movie that apparently was a crime that Sabo had never seen. Looking at the date, he could see why: he’d been a kid then, which meant, he wouldn’t have been allowed to be exposed to this content.

The movie is entertaining enough, but after the thought gets into his head, he can’t focus. His mind wanders back to the past, and his scar itches.

A child, barely eleven, leaving the property and running to a man who promised to take him in, his greatest benefactor of all time, and eventually someone he came to respect as real family.

A boy of nineteen, marching back to that house for the last time. Burning from a fire. Fear from a pudgy face of an old tormentor.

He’d given his father what he deserved, that night.

He snaps back to a dog jumping a fence, giving chase to a kid with a grubby baseball in hand, to the screams of panic echoing from the crowd of his comrades.

He looks over to see Ace grinning, clearly delighted. Would he himself have enjoyed the movie more, if he’d seen it at a younger age? Would he have the same joy on his face?

The movie ends and he’s still numb. Ace’s phone rings as the credits roll.

“Hello? Lami, I’m busy today-” Ace begins to say, but is quickly cut off. Sabo lazily eyes him as he rolls to a sitting position, phone in hand. “How is Law bailing my problem? Wait, that would still be uneven.” He glances at Sabo, and the look is enough to push him up as well, stretching as the end roll fades to the title screen. “Well I guess that’s- Ah sure, why not. See you later.” He sighs and ends he call, cell hanging limp in his grasp.

“Tired of me?” he asks Sabo. A subdued ‘no’ is his answer, and he nods. “Good. My friends are playing games in a bit. Come with me?”

Sabo blinks, momentarily stunned.

Then his mind gets thrown into overdrive. “H-How many?” he manages to get out. He hopes he doesn’t look as sick as he feels.

Apparently it shows. “Four! It’s a small group!” Ace waves his arms around, doing his best to placate. “It’ll just be playing board games for a while. There’ll be snacks and stuff, since Nojiko’s family grows tangerines, and she’s prone to bringing things she’s baked them into. It’s pretty chill, and they’re cool -no need to worry about making an impression!”

That last part stings -he knows the implications. He does his best to settle. “I’m not worried about what they’ll think of the scar, Ace.” Across from him, Ace flinches. Yep. He’s not usually wrong about these things. He breathes out a sigh. “How far is it?”

“An hour from here, but I have my car with me today.”

He already knows his answer. This was what he needed, right? Friends? His initial panic was unfounded -Ace was a special-case fanatic of the Revolutionary hype. He wasn’t going to be found out because a few more people got to know him. This was a good step to take. 

“Sure,” he says. Before him, Ace’s nervousness fades into a warm glow.

Their destination turns out to be a flower shop run by a man named Cavendish. He’s a blonde whose hair makes Sabo’s own look dusty in comparison, so pale and shiny. He’s outside flipping the open sign as Ace pulls up, parking beside a shock red car Sabo  _ knows _ costed a small fortune.

“Everyone’s upstairs,” Cavendish calls out, then dips back inside.

“They have an apartment on top,” Ace says at his questioning look, sliding out of the car.

Inside, the first thing he sees are three girls crowded around a low table. One locks eyes with him, a brunette with a long braid thrown over her shoulder, and immediately stands. “Ace! Your side friend is here!”

From beside him, Ace scowls. “His name is Sabo.”

“Sabo.” She smiles at him. “I’m Lami. Come in, come in! We’re eating real quick and then we’ll get started.”

Ace pushes his way further in to the apartment, mouth drooling. “Food?” he asks, and another of the girls snorts.

“I made rolls,” she says, leaning to the side to reveal a pan of them with stream wafting off, and the tops gleaming with what’s probably the spread set out to the side. “And tangerine butter.” Her eyes flutter to him. “Nojiko. Feel free to have one.”

Her hair is the most interesting shade of blue he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot of artificial dye jobs. It hangs around her upper back, and her bangs are pulled back by a red headband. 

“Hey Sabo,” says the last of the group, a girl with short black hair and plain clothes. “I’m Kuina.”

Ace leans over to him as he comes closer. “The most dangerous of us all.”

Kuina’s eyes narrow at the raven, lips curling in amusement. “Watch yourself, now.”

Lami shrugs. “She’d stab me and I’d be cool with it.”

“Because Law would fix you up before you could bleed out,” Cavendish says, coming into the room. “She’d stab me and I’d  _ die. _ ”

“Because of the scar it would leave or the blow your reputation would take?”

A collective laugh carries through the group.

Sabo sets himself beside Ace, with Kuina next to him from the table’s other side. The rolls are good, but the butter is heavenly. They eat half the pan before Lami stands to grab the boxes of games in the corner. She sets them down in a big stack and rests her arms on top, looking to Sabo. “Which do you want to play first?”

It takes him a quick second to glance at the titles before his lips screw up in an apologetic smile. “I’ve never actually played any of these,” he admits.

There’s a collective gasp from the group, and Ace looks personally affronted. “What a sad childhood,” Kuina says. Lami reaches out and punches her shoulder, but she barely budges. “You can’t just say that!” she hisses.

“We’re teaching him to play all of them,” Ace announces. “You can’t leave until we get done.”

He raises a brow. “Alright?”

The games are fun and, with this group, challenging. Unlike the movie, he doesn’t have time to wonder what it would have been like to play these as a kid.

At one point Ace complains about missing the evening news, but his comment is met with jeers and mocking impressions that have Sabo reeling, yet laughing.

“He’s a fanatic,” Nojiko tells him. “This whole terrorist thing has gone to his head.”

“You’re embarrassing me!” Ace whines. Sabo thinks he sounds ridiculous. But a moment later, when they start a game that requires partners, he lets the raven grab his arm and claim him before the others could.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out under the table’s lip to see a text from Garp, who’s number he’d eventually saved. ‘Out?’ it read. Only the timestamp makes him realize how late it was, already after twelve.

**[ 1:22 ]** with ace.

**[ 1:22 ]** be back soon

They were on their last game, so it’d be no more than a couple hours until he was ho-

At Garp’s house.

In a stunning turn of events, Sabo changes tactics and wins the whole thing, leaving everyone reeling.

“And you’ve never played Risk before?” Lami says weakly.

“Nope.” He laughs.  _ At least, not the game _ .

They finish off the rolls and everyone starts to leave. Outside, Lami slides into the sleek red car. She rolls her window down as Sabo’s climbing into Ace’s vehicle.

“Come hang again sometime!”

He smiles, and it’s genuine. “I’d love to.”

She nods to Ace. “Give him my number,” she says, then she’s speeding away.

When he gets in, the TV is on, Garp sat in front of it. He turns to look at Sabo as the door closes, and his blink is tired, slow. “Good,” he grunts, rising. “I can sleep now.”

“Were you waiting?” Sabo questions, a tad bit bewildered.

“I have to confirm you’re in every night.” The TV flicks off. “Don’t feel too bad, I only got in a little bit ago.” He offers a lazy wave. “Goodnight.”

That was something he hadn’t expected. He’d never encountered, more like. Though, usually he was asleep before Garp got home -he wouldn’t know if he poked his head into Sabo’s bedroom every night.

The implication scared him, though. So far his time here had been void of restrictions. He wondered, if he pushed enough, what he’d be denied.

-

Day 149

  
  


Sabo’s coming out of the kitchen with a place of food in hand when Ace walks in the door He stops moving and quickly glances to the kitchen, then quiets Ace before he has a chance to speak. Ace closes the door and Sabo ushers him to his room.

Before they walk in, Garp’s voice sounds from the kitchen. “Who’s here?”

And Sabo internally curses, because he can’t lie, but he also can’t say ‘no one’ or ‘a friend’ because they were vague and therefore suspicious. So he takes a breath and says “Ace” back, pushing the raven into the room and following, shutting the door behind him.

He breathes out a sign, dropping the plate onto the desk in the corner.

Ace is looking at him strangely.

“What?”

“Your shirt.”

He looks down, a sliver of irritation on his face. It was his blue sweatshirt. “What about it?”

Ace looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “It’s stained? Like . . . a lot.”

“It’s special,” he snaps, now full-blown irritated. He only wore the shirt when no one could see. Garp was the exception -he could understand the sentimentality. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting Ace today. “Why are you here?”

“I need to study,” he grumbles. “I thought it’d be quiet over here, but with  _ him _ around I guess not.”

“He won’t bother us in here,” Sabo says, calming down. “Set your stuff down. We can open the windows.”

He pads back out to grab an extra drink, and Garp confronts him before he can go back.

“Friends with Ace, now?” he asks. His arms are crossed.

“That a problem?” he offers in response.

Garp pauses for a moment, then it stretches to two, three, and then it’s uncomfortable, so Sabo shuffles his feet, which snaps him out of it.

“No.” Garp shakes his head, “Do what you like.”

Ace is situated before the window, shutters pulled open, already picking off Sabo’s plate. He slaps his hand away and passes him a water.

“This used to be my room, you know.” Ace says it so casually that he almost lets it go over his head. “Before Luffy came along. Then a little after.”

“I thought it was his.”

Ace rolls his eyes. “He would’ve liked that. Nah, it was mine. Red sheets and grey walls and-” He cuts off. “Is the shower curtain still up? The one with the-”

“Pirates?” Sabo’s grinning, now. “Yep. Still there.”

Ace laughs, and Sabo can feel the fondless when he speaks next. “I thought pirates were the coolest shit as a kid. Luffy thought I was crazy, but he was a  _ bug _ kid, so he had no room to complain.”

And Sabo spends the day quietly letting Ace reminisce, his worries of sweatshirts and grandparents and impressions dissipating.

-

Day 161

  
  


Sabo spends a day running around with Koala’s group, and they’re as wild and weird as she is.

The first is Reiju, who has bright pink hair and a model figure and stares too long at Koala when she’s too busy to notice. 

The second is Bonney, a tall girl with a face ring and a heavy accent. And the third is Kidd, a guy whose dark red hair is “natural” but totally goes with his rocker vibe.

In the beginning Koala jokingly suggests robbing a store and when all they do is laugh in response, Sabo knows she’s found the right friends for her.

They eventually settle on seeing a movie, and the film itself takes a backseat to the antics everyone gets up to. Like when Bonney buys two extra-large popcorns and makes Kidd carry one, only to devour them both before the title appears on screen. Or the fact that it was the last showing of a sequel film on an off-time, so they ended up with the whole theater to themselves to be as loud and talkative as they wanted.

Koala takes a fair amount of photos of their antics, and that’s how Sabo finds out she has a social media account.

Someone named Hina is the first to like the set, and when Sabo questions, she leans real close to whisper in his ear.

“My keeper,” she says, and it clicks and Sabo’s surprised he’s never bothered before to ask  _ who _ she’s staying with. “She’s chill,” Koala continues. “But she watches me like a  _ hawk _ , doesn’t trust me at all.”

He also should’ve expected that Garp’s never-here-do-what-you-want approach was the irregular of the bunch.

They go out to eat afterwards because Bonney’s somehow still hungry. It’s there he finds out Kidd is an engineering major, which doesn’t match his appearance at  _ all _ but anyone who can take Calc Three no sweat has Sabo’s respect. Bonney runs a vlog channel alongside a sociology major, and Reiju is minoring in criminology while she takes work as a model.

“Hina would love to work with you,” she mentions, and Sabo gives pause for long enough that Koala interjects.

“That’s how we met. Hina’s her mentor and a small-time photo gig for a designer in the city. She used to model herself, but now she’s too busy with other work.” Koala gives him a pointed look and he doesn’t question what the  _ other work _ is.

“You have a good face, Sabo,” Reiju continues. “Nice eyes, sharp cheekbones. Your hair is interesting, but that’s what Hina snaps up: The different.” She shrugs. “You should consider it. Koala would get you in contact. Right?”

“Uh.” She blanks for a moment. “Yeah. I’m sure I could.”

It doesn’t matter anyway, because despite all the problems that would cause, Sabo’s not a model. He appreciates the sentiment, though.

Especially with the scar. He’s not used to getting comments like that since the accident happened. It was more of a shock to him that Reiju hadn’t mentioned anything about being able to cover it up more than not addressing it entirely, like it just didn’t matter. It was nice to think that maybe it didn’t.

One by one, everyone splits, and when he and Koala are left, he finally tells her his opinion of the group was  _ good _ . She takes it well, a huge smile on her face, and goes into a long-winded speal about each of them that he only half attempts to keep up with. Until the last part, that is.

“And  _ Reiju _ ,” she gushes. “Isn’t she amazing? I thought I might pass out when Hina introduced us, and now we’re such good friends. Can you believe she’s studying criminology? Apparently the family thing is science, but she’s the oldest kid and she wasn’t as adept with it, so her father let her choose this. I don’t think Hina set her up for it, either, but she hasn’t told me why she chose it yet. Also she took me with her to a photoshoot the other day, and that girl is absolutely stunning, Sabo-”

“So it’s not one-sided attraction, then,” he muses, a coy smile playing on his lips.

Koala stops them and jerks her head to face him. They’re walking around an outdoor shopping district, and which they’re not on the way of any cars, it’s disgruntling to jerk to a halt on a crowded walkway. And inconvenient, as people swerve to avoid running in to them.

“Do you think so?” Koala asks, and he holds back a groan.

“You haven’t noticed?  _ All day? _ ”

“Stop being mean to me!” Her cheeks puff out. “I didn’t think it would actually happen, okay! I mean, you  _ saw _ her, right? And-” She cuts herself off, staring behind him, and then rubs at her eyes. When she looks again, her lips quirk up.

“Hey, remember that officer you impersonated last year inside the DBX building? Really tall, blonde hair, turned out to be a super klutz?”

His eyes narrow. “The op that turned out to be a bust because of Seal’s recovery time?”  _ And my failed impersonation? _ he doesn’t say, because he has dignity.

She turns with a gleam in her eye, and he knows it doesn’t matter that he didn’t say it. Then she nods behind him. “I think that’s him.”

And he turns, because wow would that be weird, but sure enough he sees a lanky form with light hair crushed in a knit hat, red tassels ending in a strange form he can’t make out from the distance.

And in front, pulling at a too-long arm, is Lami.

Sabo stares. And stares.

As Koala starts to laugh at the coincidence, he pulls up Lami’s contact in his phone.

**[ 5:45 ]** i didn’t know you were into men.

“This is too funny,” Koala laugh-cries, still doubled over. Sabo offers her his drink, and she sucks the rest up, not even bothering to flip the straw. The smile still won’t leave her face.

“Sabo!” A voice calls, and he tenses because yeah he’d sent the text but he didn’t expect her to see him much less  _ come over _ -

“Lami,” he responds, turning to face her. She’s still dragging too-tall-and-clumsy around.

“Idiot,” she huffs. “This is my  _ dad _ , Cora.” She gestures to him. “And this is Sabo, Ace’s friend I mentioned.”

“Rocinante,” the blonde says, nodding, and Sabo can only nod back in response to keep from saying  _ yeah, I know _ .

“Nice to meet you, sir.” A noise makes him lift his hands, gesture to his companion. “This is Koala, an old friend.”

“Hi,” Koala says, nice and sweet, to Lami, and Sabo knows she’s eyeing up the brunette in her outfit, skirt and long socks and cute top, so he jabs her in the side where the others can’t see because they had  _ just _ been discussing Reiju’s bachelorette status, right?

Lami doesn’t seem fazed, though, offering a small wave. “Hey, yeah, nice to meet you.” She grabs for her dad’s hand again. “We gotta go, only have so much free time. It was nice to see you, though!” she tells Sabo.

They take off and Sabo somehow isn’t surprised to see Rocinante trip up and, had it not been for Lami, inevitably fall. He groans as memories of their past op come to mind, and Koala stiffles another laugh.

That had been the worst impersonation he’d ever done.

“Lami, huh,” she says.

“She hangs around Ace. I met her a few weeks back.”

“If Reiju doesn’t work out, at least I have a backup,” she remarks, and Sabo doesn’t hesitate to kick her in the shin.

-

Day 173

  
  


They’re all inside the flower shop early one morning for breakfast, gathered around the table off to the side of the register reserved for bouquet-making. Everyone’s perched on a high stool and Sabo’s so tired he feels he might fall off.

Nojiko stifles a yawn and the noise is enough to get Kuina to crack open her eyes. “This was a bad idea,” she mutters.

“You’re the one who wanted to do it before everyone had class,” Ace muses.

She glares over at him. “Sometimes my ideas are bad, and you should stop them.”

“He’s just saying that because he has the day off,” Nojiko mumbles. “Gloaty motherfucker.”

“Gloaty’s not a word.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

A loud vibration makes them all whine. Lami pulls her phone out, squinting to read the message, then gasps. “Law’s coming!” she shouts, banging a hand flat against the table, and several of them groan.

“Jesus Christ, Lami, the store isn’t even open yet,” Cavendish grouses. “Shut  _ up _ .” She flicks her tongue out and his eyes narrow in trepidation. “Wait. How did he know we were here?”

“I told him last night,” Lami admits.

“You got a coffee machine somewhere in here?” Sabo asks, and Cavendish winces, tugging on his ponytail.

“Only thing it makes is sludge.”

Ace nudges him. “Don’t risk it. I’m not awake enough to drag your ass to the hospital.”

“Next time I suggest this I give permission for one of you to punch me.” Kuina flops over the table. “Right here,” she mumbles, pointing to the side of her chin.

The front door opens eventually with the tingling of a bell. Footsteps precede a low voice. “You sad saps have no idea how lucky you are.”

A gasp makes Sabo look up just as a six pack of energy drinks is set down on the table, and then everyone is letting out gratitudes with a loudness he has yet to see that morning.

“Law, you savior,” Lami moans. Then she pauses, eyes counting cans. “But you forgot Sabo!”

“I have coffee in the car, so I’m good,” Law says, and Sabo finally looks over to meet golden eyes. “Law, glad we could meet,” their owner says, sticking out a dark hand for him to shake. Those eyes turn almost feral as Sabo shakes it.

“S’bo,” he manages, and then Ace is passing him an energy drink and he smiles back in thanks and Law’s expression changes as he observes, backing off to sit near Lami.

They all sit around sipping on the caffeine, and after a bit, have the energy to manage menial tasks. Nojiko undoes Cavendish’s ponytail to redo it herself, Kuina’s eyes are more than halfway open as she stabs her fork into a piece of pastry resting in the foil container, and Ace has finally steadied himself enough to not list into Sabo’s side anymore, all that extra muscle threatening to topple the blonde over.

Lami talks more animatedly to Law, asking about what his day entailed. Boring, from what Sabo could make of it, but she was more into medical stuff, so he let the thought slip from his mind.

It was interesting to see the siblings interact. Law was a case by himself, really. His skin was darker than Lami’s, but their facial structures confirmed they were related. His hair was dark and, though he couldn’t tell in this lighting, he swore it was tinged with blue. He was tall, with gangly limbs like Rocinante had had. Apparently he was also finishing up his residency, so Sabo could see why he was up this early.

Nojiko leaves first, her lab starting earliest. Then Kuina, then Cavendish opens the shop, and then Lami pauses in her conversation with Sabo as her phone alarm sounds. “That’s my cue,” she apologizes, standing. Sabo waves her off as she leaves.

He turns to see Ace and Law still talking, but Law’s eyes are following Lami out the door. “I should head out,” he says eventually, standing. He gestures to the foil container. “Mind if I take this? Someone at work will eat it.”

Ace waves him off. “Yeah, go for it.” Then he turns to Sabo. “Ready?” Sabo opens his mouth to answer and a yawn comes out. Ace laughs. “Come on, you can go back to sleep at Garp’s.”

“Thanks for the drinks,” Sabo says to Law, before they depart.

The other shrugs. “Sure, no problem.”

And that was his first encounter with Law Trafalgar.

The car ride back is long, but Sabo doesn’t fall asleep, listening to the radio. It was turned to some talk show, and they were discussing estimates on how long amnesty on The Revolutionaries was due to last.

They make it back and stumble in, silence thankfully greeting them. Sabo wasn’t awake enough to deal with Ace and Garp’s tension.

Ace flips on the TV just to have some noise and he and Sabo fall onto the couch facing it, sides colliding as their backs sank into the cushions.

After a moment Ace reaches out and taps the volume up a little. A news channel, Sabo acknowledges.

His vision turns fuzzy, and he finally gives in, closing his eyes. His head lists to the side, falling onto Ace’s shoulder, and he hums in acknowledgement.

He sleeps for a bit, and when he wakes up later it's because Garp is flipping off the TV. It’s not late, that he can tell. Afternoon.

He doesn’t have to move to acknowledge Ace’s heavy breathing, and then the weight on his head makes sense. He closes his eyes again before Garp takes notice, falling back asleep with ease.

When he wakes again it’s dark, and he’s on his back. It’s disorienting. He makes a noise in the back of his throat then realizes there’s a blanket over his form. He blinks, looking up again. The fan was off. It was hot.

He moves to take the blanket off, slowly sitting up. A shadow passes by on his door, and then Garp is there, peeking in at him.

“Ace brought you in here,” he says. “He left a while ago.”

Sabo pauses, blinking through the thought. He looks back down at the blanket. “He did?” Then he remembers the couch, sleeping against each other in the living room. His hands curl around the blanket. “Oh.”

-

Day 177

  
  


“Yo.”

Standing before him, Luffy Monkey was not at all what Sabo expected as the son of Dragon. He definitely wore his emotions on his sleeve, seemed to attract all sorts of people, and -though Ace had told him the boy was twenty-two- acted completely childish.

He actually reminded Sabo more of Garp.

“So you’re Dragon’s son, huh.”

Luffy perks up. “You know my dad?”

Sabo freezes, mentally trying to backtrack. “Uh, yeah, something like that.” He can feel Ace’s eyes on him, which makes it more awkward.

Thankfully, Luffy doesn’t seem all that concerned. “Eh, whatever.” He shrugs, turning to one of his companions. “Nami, let’s go get food now! You promised, remember?”

Nami visibly rolls her eyes. “We’re still waiting on Kuina, you idiot,” she huffs. To her left, Nojiko doubles over, holding back a snort, and Nami turns on her. “You! Quit that already!”

Nojiko’s sister. Adiopted, apparently. He’d seen a picture of their mom as well, and could only guess they were all unrelated. But, he could understand found family. As Nami turns back to snap at Luffy, who had mildly suggested they let Kuina catch up, he re-says the thought, reminded of him and Koala.

“You seem happy,” Ace tells him, and Sabo ses his warm smile reflected on the raven’s face.

He shrugs. “I like them.”

Eventually Kuina shows up dragging her brother in tow, whose earlier class had been cancelled, but somehow managed to end up lost. He didn’t seem impressed that Kuina admitted that, but later Nami assures Sabo that it was quite a normal occurrence.

He couldn’t relate.

Through their meal, he learns more about the trio. Luffy, Nami, and Zoro had been friends for some time, along with a few others whose names he let fly over his head. It was actually Ace, Kuina, and Nojiko that had met more recently, being put in the same orientation group together with Lami, and then clicking enough to stay in contact. They’d been aware of each other because of their younger siblings, but hadn’t started hanging out until university.

Nami was an education major going for her teaching degree. That was kind of surprising, since all he’d seen her do was be violent and yell at people, but Luffy leans far over the table and loudly assures Sabo Nami was great with kids, and somehow Sabo just believes him.

Luffy himself didn’t know what he wanted to study, but that was fine. It was his first year, after all.

Zoro had his sights set on being some form of law enforcement, so he was studying criminal justice. “Like Reiju,” Sabo ends up muttering, and his out-loud thought doesn’t go unnoticed.

All three of the younger sibling trio snap their heads to him. Luffy’s smiling when he speaks.

“Ah! Then you know Sanji’s sister?”

“Idiot!” Nami berates him. “He doesn’t know who that is. Reiju Vinsmoke?” she ends up asking, but the full name doesn’t help either and he can feel all the awkward crawling up his face and finally he just stammers out a description and tries not to bury his head in his hands.

“P-Pink hair? Bangs over one eye? Definitely not heterosexual?”

“Ah, yep!” Luffy shouts. “That’s her!”

“What a small world,” Zoro mutters.

Nami’s ultimately the one who explains, bless her. “Sanji is her younger brother. She’s the only one of his siblings he keeps in contact with.” She tips her head, turning to the other two. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen her.”

“Same probably goes for Sanji,” Zoro shrugs.

Luffy laughs, looking back at Sabo. “That’s so awesome that you saw her! How was she doing?”

He thinks back to his time with Koala’s friends, and it doesn’t take him long to answer. “Good.”

Overall his impressions of the sibling trio were good. He’s still confused by Luffy, unable to process how a direct descendent of Dragon could be so . . . different, from what he was used to. But Luffy was a good kid, and he thinks Ace introducing them might have been a test in some way, so he doesn’t bother to think much of him, trusting his surface-level response.

He wonders how Dragon views his son.

-

Day 189

  
  


After failing to comprehend the sentence he’d now read for the third time, Sabo sits up from his reclined position in the chair. He sighs, dogearing the page before shutting the book. Across from him, Robin looks up from her own read and hums, setting it down after a moment.

“You’re distracted,” she notes. After a moment of no response, her eyes turn to look at him. “How are things with Ace?”

Sabo can see the small smirk of hers from the corner of his eye, and he mentally groans, regretting for the millionth time confiding in Robin about Garp’s grandson.

“Fine, I guess,” he mumbles. “Things just . . backtrack? I feel like we’re fine one day, then the next he’s on high alert around me, and I don’t know what’s causing it?” He shakes his head, finally turning to face her. “Do you think he’s catching on?”

“No,” she answers easily. “I think it’s far simpler than that.” A ding of her phone keeps her from saying more, and she picks it up to glance at the message, her lips melding into a genuine smile.

“Good news?”

“Franky says our car is currently in several pieces. Again.” She lets out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “That leaves me to walk for the next couple days.”

“Huh.” Sabo thinks on that for a second, and then a question arises. “What does Franky do again?”

“He’s a mechanic.” She only blinks as Sabo blanches. “Interesting combination, right? Mechanic and government agent.”

“If it works, I guess,” he mumbles.

His phone rings and he hurries to answer it. Their section of the shop was empty, but that didn’t mean Sabo still wasn’t about making a bunch of noise. “Hello?”

“ _ I have news! _ ”

Koala. “Oh, okay. Just, I’m in public, so-”

“ _ I have a girlfriend now! _ ” She almost shouts, voice definitely rising despite his attempts to prevent this. His lips purse in confusion for a moment as he dissects the news wasn’t  _ news _ news, and then his jaw falls open.

“What.”

“ _ You were right about Reiju _ ,” Koala continues. “ _ And now we’re dating! Amazing, right? I was so surprised _ .”

“Uh. Yeah.” His mouth suddenly feels dry. “That’s great.”

“ _ I know! Oh, I have to go now. I’ll call you later! _ ”

As usual, her abruptness ends the conversation. Sabo still holds the phone to his ear, and across from him, Robin’s smile grows.

“Ex-criminal and future law enforcement is also an interesting combination,” she says, and Sabo realizes the conversation was loud enough for her to overhear.

“Koala told you her major?” he asks, referring to Reiju.

Robin shakes her head. “Oh, no. I found out on my own.”

“Right,” Sabo mutters, because he may have just found out what Robin’s job was. She was a government  _ intelligence officer _ after all, why wouldn’t she be keeping tabs on all of The Revolutionaries. 

“So. Perhaps your problem with Ace is something similar?”

He blinks, lost for a moment, then furiously shakes his head. “What? No. It’s nothing like that.” Hee waves her off. “Yeah. It’s not like that. Besides, that wouldn’t . .” His lips purse. “That might be dangerous, being that close. Especially with what he’s doing.”

Robin merely hums. “I wonder about that.”

They dissolve into silence. Sabo tries not to think on it. His phone buzzes again, and he answers without checking the caller. “Hello?”

“Sabo?”

He swallows. “Ace.” Carefully, he keeps his gaze from Robin’s. “What is it?”

“Hey, I need a quiet place to study for a final.” Sabo picks up on muffled noise in the back, and Ace sighs. “Luffy’s home, so it definitely can’t be our apartment. Do you know if Garp is there?”

“Doubt it,” he says, standing. “I’m not there, but I’ll be back in half an hour. Go ahead and head over, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great. Thanks! See you then.”

“Don’t give me that look,” he says to Robin, who’s back to smirking at him. He gathers his stuff quickly. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Right.” Her smile is still there. “Bye, Sabo.”

-

They’re sprawled out on blankets in Sabo’s room, heater on to combat the cold outside. The blinds are pulled from the window to offer enough light into the room. Steam drifts up from two mugs resting on the sill, a mix of cider and lemon and peppermint that Ace had scoffed at, but quickly was asking for a second cup. It was a staple winter mix Sabo had grown used to, but he didn’t mind sharing his limited stash with the other.

Ace is against the wall, computer in his lap, a stack of notecards in hand, and an open binder to the side that he occasionally rifles through. He’s been quiet, for the most part, and Sabo can appreciate the work ethic.

He himself is curled up on the floor, head on a pillow and open book halfway in hand and on the ground. Unlike Ace, he doesn’t have a blanket around his shoulders, that spot being taken by a big red jacket. It was nice, when the heater was still kicking in, and with only a thin shirt on underneath. He hadn’t wanted to put his old sweatshirt back on, not with Ace around, and besides that he didn’t really have any warm clothes. Ace had offered, and then insisted. So Sabo had given in, and now here he was, warm and comfortable.

His eyes fall from the words on the page to the red sleeve in front of him. It had been an unexpectedly nice gesture. He tries not to let Robin’s words get to him. It wasn’t -well. It  _ couldn’t _ be like that. There were too many variables against him.

Ace thumbs through a few of the index cards and then reaches for his mug. He’s only half paying attention, and his hand doesn’t quite reach, so Sabo moves it within range, until the handle brushes against tanned skin. He doesn’t think much of it until Ace hums, and when Sabo looks up, finds himself being watched.

“Good book?” Ace asks, and Sabo withdraws his arm, looking away.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbles. Ace laughs, this really soft, quiet thing, then takes a sip of his drink.

They spend a good amount of time like that, quietly in each other’s company, until it all comes crashing down.

Literally.

Sabo jumps to his feet at the noise, page number immediately forgotten as instinct takes over. It’d been from the front of the house, like broken glass -the windows?

The sound of Ace’s laptop closing makes him look back, and Ace is staring at the bedroom door with wide eyes. They wait a moment. Then Sabo hears footsteps, and goddamnit, was this not a good neighborhood? Who gets robbed in high-end suburbia?

Without thinking much of it, Sabo goes for the first weapon he can think of -the curtain rod. The shower rod would be too long, and it was imbalanced -not something he could easily wield. 

So he grabs the rod and presses a foot against the wall for leveredge, then jerks back, wrenching it from its spot. He’s hastily sliding the curtain off when Ace grabs at his shoulders, snapping Sabo out of an old mindset.

“What are you doing?” Ace hisses. He gestures to his phone. “Just let me call the police!”

“And let them steal Garp’s shit?” he counters, turning the rod in his hands. Longer than what he was used to, but he’d manage. “He’d be pissed if I didn’t do anything.”

Ace’s eyes narrow. “What, so he expects you to handle break-ins like this? I didn’t realize you were elevated to household security.”

Sabo tries not to let his internal wince show, but it’s hard. That had been a mistake. He takes the rod in one hand and gestures to the phone with the other. “Hurry up and call,” he mutters, turning on his heel.

He can’t gage the intruder’s position like this, so he opts to rip the door open and hurry down the hall, going for speed instead of stealth. The bar comes up in both hands and he steps into the doorframe to the living room just as some random guy that  _ definitely _ looks like a first attempt, barely-out-of-101 thief, comes to face him, only a couple feet away.

Unfortunately for Sabo’s plan one of badass entry, the curtain rod is not as short as his favored steel pipe, and he’s now stuck as it won’t fit through the frame. He gives it another push, as if it would magically fit, and at this point Mr. I’m-obviously-a-stereotypical-robber has recovered enough from his sudden appearance to grab the handgun from his back pocket and point it at Sabo.

After his second attempt doesn’t work, Sabo gives it another second before frustratingly forming a plan two. “Fuck this!” he snarls, and drops the rod from his hands, kicking out with a leg high enough to snap against one of the guy’s hands, making him yelp with pain, stumble back from loss of balance, and -most importantly- lose the grip on his gun. Sabo lets his leg’s rebound thrust the falling pole back up and into an angle, then wastes no time in grabbing it with both hands and using the new position to push it through the entryway. He gets a couple steps forward and lifts it over his shoulder, slamming it into the now would-be robber’s head before he could recover enough to stand up straight. Sabo didn’t think the hit was that heavy, and he actually thought the rod was pretty light, so it might be in some part shock that the guy falls to the floor, obviously passed out.

He stands there for a moment, pole still raised, frustrated at having his day ruined, until he hears Ace’s voice from behind him.

“Hi, uh there’s been a break-in. Yes, he’s still here. Well, he’s actually incapacitated . .”

Sabo lets out a heavy breath and drops his shoulders, lowers his makeshift weapon to the ground.

He’d fucked up.

-

Garp comes home, arriving shortly after local authorities do. He’s less concerned about the shattered window and more so about Ace’s condition. He actually doesn’t spare Sabo a second glance, though that could be because the blonde’s still taking to the police.

He keeps his answers vague and tries to imply everything was panic-and-adrenaline induced. In the end it’s written off as self-defense. The guy is hauled out of the house before regaining consciousness.

When he’s done with the police, Ace has left, and there’s a sour feeling to Sabo’s gut. He turns on Garp as soon as they’re alone.

“The fuck was that?” he yells. “Some kind of test? A setup?”

Garp only looks mildly annoyed. “That wasn’t planned, Sabo.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, now on the verge of hysterics. “Why does shit keep  _ happening _ ? Am I just not supposed to make any friends? I keep driving him away; how do I fix this?” He knows his face is wet, blotchy. Garp comes a step closer and Sabo puts his head in his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me. Why  _ me _ ?”

“He told me he admired it -how collected you were about the whole thing,” Garp says.

Sabo barks out a laugh. “I bet that’s not the only thing he said.”

“No.” he sighs. “He also told me he wouldn’t be speaking with me until I told him why you were here. We weren’t really speaking before, but, well . .”

“Great.” Sabo sniffs, uncupping his face. His eyes lock on to red sleeves, and his lips tremble. “Just great.”

-

Day 200

  
  


Ace gives him one last chance.

It's not stated, but it’s heavily implied, and it’s in the air, and Sabo knows he can’t fuck up again.

He takes him to a party at Law’s place. They arrive a whole three hours early, so the first thing Sabo witnesses as Ace barges in is Lami spread across the couch, old sweats on and hair up in a lazy bun, one hand in a popcorn bowl and the flatscreen playing some movie. She looks up and Sabo spots the wire frames on the tip of her nose, slouching off now as her eyebrows raise.

“Oh, hey. You’re kinda early,” he notes.

Ace shrugs. “Felt like it.”

“You’re not dressed?” Sabo asks her.

“Nah.” Lami turns back to her movie. “I’m sitting this one out. I’ll be in my room an hour before.” She uses her other hand to gesture them over. “Come on, we’ve got a bit. I’ll let you watch.”

Law walks in a short time later, sighing at the sight. “You’re always so damn early,” he tells Ace.

“So uninvite me,” he counters. 

“Ass. I’m not doing that.”

“So stop complaining.”

A while later the door opens again to admit a tall, green-haired woman dragging something on the wooden floorboards. “Law!” she calls out. “I brought back your stereo!”

“Great, thanks!” Law answers from the kitchen.

Lami lifts her head to see over the couch. “Hi, Monet.”

The woman wrinkles her nose. “Aren’t you sick?”

Lami sighs, rolling to a sit and slowly standing. “That’s my cue. Nice seeing you.” She waves to Sabo, tosses the remote to Ace, then wanders up the stairs. Sabo hears a door close. 

“What a longass movie,” Ace mutters, immediately switching the channel. Sabo withholds a snort, and then Law is out of the kitchen, swiping the remote from Ace’s hands.

“Thanks,” Law says, turning to change the channel and ignoring Ace’s huff. “Want something to do? Go set up the stereo out back.”

“Outside? You expect people to party where it’s fucking freezing?”

Law shrugs. “There’s alcohol, so sure, why not. Maybe that’s what the music is for: to lure them out.” He says this, yet he’s set the TV to a music station, the surround sound in the house kicking in. 

Ace doesn’t protest anymore, just gets up and jerks the stereo Monet had brought in so that it rolls across the wood. Sabo hears the back door shut and glances over to see Ace bending down, mashing buttons on the machine.

In front of him, Law breathes out a sigh and sinks to the floor. 

Sabo shuffles on the couch. “Is it work?”

“Yeah,” Law admits. “Just tired from it all. Need a break.”

“ . . . Need me to help with anything?”

Law’s silent for a moment, then his gaze moves. “No. But Ace does.” He nods towards the windows and Sabo turns his head to see Ace throw his hands in the air and begin to pace, steps heavy with frustration. 

“Oh.” He stands. “Yeah.”

Ace whips his head to the door as Sabo opens it, but his glare immediately softens when he sees who it is. Sabo offers him a lopsided smile, stepping out. “Something’s bothering you.”

Ace sighs, crosses his arms. “No, I’m good.”

“Normally I’d say so, but you’ve been kinda hostile all night.” He gestures back to the house. “C’mon, let’s talk through it. Before everyone arrives.”

Sabo waits a few long, silent moments, just standing there. It’s different, because usually he’s in Ace’s position, and now he can begin to grasp what Seal was feeling all those times she’d had to talk him down. 

Ace does answer, though.

“It’s . . .” He frowns. “Gramps wants Luffy and I over for Christmas. And Lu actually wants to go, which means he’ll end up dragging me with him, and I- well . .”

“You don’t want to,” Sabo guesses.

“I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing up,” he corrects. “I’ll go if Luffy wants to, but we had an argument the other day about it, and I’m in another cold standoff with gramps, and I just don’t know.”

Sabo crosses his arms, but it’s mostly from the cold. He thinks on it. “Well . . I can understand that.” He tries to smile, as Ace looks over at him. “But, you’re family, right? You shouldn’t spend your time fighting with each other. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have people who care about you as much as the two of them do.” He shrugs. “I know it’s hard, being the one to settle things. There are ways you could go around it, though.”

Ace’s interest is successfully piqued. “How?”

“Well, you could get him a gift. How long’s it been since you gave Garp anything?”

“Never,” Ace mutters.

“Then it’s perfect! Show up with a Christmas gift, and he’ll be too speechless to bother addressing the problem. And then you don’t have to worry about it.”

His frown is maybe a little lighter. “I guess. Maybe,” he mumbles. “Maybe I could try that.”

This time, Sabo can smile easily. “And, if it helps any, I’ll be there too.”

“Yeah.” Then his frown drops. “Wait, so you don’t have any family? Is that why you’re living with gramps?”

He’s saved from answering by a pounding on the window, both of them turning to see Law glaring at Ace, gesturing to the radio. Ace flips him off before marching to it, fumbling with the dials. Law rolls his eyes and walks away, and Sabo muffles a laugh behind a hand. He wanders up to Ace carefully, peering at all the buttons.

“Any requests?” Ace asks. Sabo blinks.

“Not really a music person,” he lies, which is a mistake. Ace turns his head and stares at him. It doesn’t take a genius to make out the disbelief. 

“Gee, Sab. No music, no board games, no iconic movies. That’s . . sad. That’s a bit sad, there.” He switches the dial until he’s satisfied, then turns the volume up. “We’ll just have to fix that.”

An instrumental piece is on, and Ace turns it up until their ears are ringing just a bit, but low enough where they can still hear each other. An older voice comes on, and Sabo tries to place it, but he can’t. Hard to play music when there was never any signal, and when there was, he was usually either running for his life, tuned into something important that was very non-music, or otherwise entirely preoccupied with a myriad of high-risk situations. 

“Ever heard of Soul King?” Ace asks him. Sabo shrugs.

“Sounds good, though.”

“Yeah?” Ace is grinning. “I’m more into rock myself. A Benn Beckman sort of guy. Luffy likes this one, though.”

Sabo could see why. He’s kind of getting into it, and when the chorus comes back around, he sways a bit. 

“It’s good,” he says. Then he turns to look at Ace. “Play your music.”

Ace wastes no time, moving back to the stereo and changing the station. After a couple tries, a song is just fading out and a bass thrum takes over, and that seems to be the one, because Ace is turning it up and leaping to his feet, arms in the air.

The song picks up pretty rapidly, and Sabo stands there laughing, watching as Ace air guitars to the beats. When a raspy voice starts singing, Sabo is definitely intrigued. He doesn’t have much time to think on it, because Ace is grabbing his hands, moving him around. They turn around the patio and Ace sings him all the words, and Sabo laughs because he’s not bad, actually. The song fades and another good one takes over, because Ace doesn’t stop moving, and he knows the words to this one too.

They stay like that for a while, dancing and having fun, and Sabo eventually notices the thrum of people now inside the house. He didn’t realize he’d been distracted. How long had they been out here?

“Hey, Ace! Change it off this rock shit! I wanna hear something more electronic!” 

Sabo’s gaze flits to the door as Ace breaks away, catching sight of a tall girl with long black hair. She’s glaring daggers at Ace, hands on her hips, and Ace returns the favor.

“Oh, nice to see you too, Bianca. Get out here and do it yourself!”

“Fine!” She comes out and slams the door shut, then immediately starts shivering. “Damn, why’s it so cold?”

“Ask Law.”

She fumbles with the dials, changing it to something with a  _ lot _ more bass. Sabo can’t say he dislikes it, either, but maybe it’s because he’s being freshly exposed to it all tonight.

“This is Bianca,” Ace tells him, gesturing to the woman. “But everyone calls her Baby 5.”

“Yo!” she calls back to Sabo, swinging the door open. “Sugar! I changed it, come on out!”

More than just Sugar -who Ace says is Monet’s sister- come out, and now the patio is a bit more cramped. It’s still fun, but it wasn’t like it was before. At one point, Ace sees someone he knows, and after Sabo promises it was alright, he runs off to go greet them.

After a while, Sabo finds himself on the corner of a couch inside. He’d had a drink in hand at one point, half downed despite not knowing what it was, but it was against the couch leg now. Sabo was leaned against the cushions, content with people-watching. His eyes felt heavy.

Someone takes a seat next to him. “Tired?”

He expects Law, an echo of Sabo’s earlier question to him, but when he turns his head, it’s Ace that’s staring at him, grey eyes holding an emotion he can’t contemplate at the current moment. He shrugs. “Yeah, a bit. It’s been a long day.”

Ace nods. “I get it.” He turns back to the room and starts talking, and Sabo finds himself relaxing, finding comfort in just listening without having to reply. Ace talks about the party and Lami’s movie and what he could buy Garp for a present. Sabo must’ve zoned out at one point, closed his eyes, because the next thing he knows Ace is on a new topic and his arm is around Sabo’s form, holding him there.

“You must be tired, to fall asleep with all this noise,” Ace murmurs. Sabo only blinks, turning his eyes to stare at him. After a moment, Ace’s hand moves to Sabo’s head, and he’s gently pushing it down to his shoulder. Sabo complies, too drained to do anything else, and after a moment, closes his eyes and turns his head, burying his nose in Ace’s neck. It’s warm there. Comfortable.

“Just go to sleep,” Ace says, right near his ear. “I got you.”

Sabo hums, and then he’s out.

-

Sabo wakes up to a flash and the first thing he takes in is the quiet.

When his eyes open, he first sees Lami seated across from him, typing something on her phone. He closes his eyes again, blinking hard, and when they open the camera is back on him. His lips tilt in a frown.

“Wha . . ?” He mumbles, words slurred from sleep. Lami lowers her phone quickly, eyes wide as she takes in she’s been caught. It doesn’t last long, though, a smirk taking over. She moves closer and taps something on her phone, then turns it around to show Sabo.

It was a picture of him and Ace, curled up and sleeping on each other. Sabo stares at it a few moments before the realization kicks in, and then he’s sitting up, and he’s reaching for the phone, and Lami’s giggling and moving it and herself back out of reach.

Ace jerks awake abruptly, taking a moment to gather his bearings. “Wh- Party’s over?” He says, a little too loud.

Lami shares a conspiratorial look with Sabo and then starts typing again, and Sabo’s phone buzzes a few times, alerting him that people were now replying to the picture she’d just shared. “Yeah,” she answers. “Time to go home.”

Ace rubs his eyes. “Okay, okay. Damn, I didn’t . .” He sighs. “Wonder how that happened. No, not important. You ready?” he asks. Sabo nods, standing.

“Tell Law thanks for the party,” he says to Lami, on their way out. She’s still grinning.

“Thanks for coming.  _ And _ for dragging along blondie over here.”

Sabo frowns at her. She just winks.

He resists checking his phone once they’re driving back for all of three minutes. Luckily it’s just in their friend circle that Lami’s shared the picture. That he knows about. He withholds a sigh, powering his phone off so the buzzing stops.

Right. So apparently he was comfortable around Ace now, to an extent he hadn’t been with anyone but his found family. That was . . something to take in. Definitely. He crosses his arms, blames it on the cold. Turns to look out the window.

Ace clicks the radio on, and for once it’s not to a talk show, but to the same old rock they’d danced to hours before. He keeps it low, hums along. Sabo closes his eyes, because if Ace thinks he was still tired, might as well use it to his advantage.

He didn’t want to confront what had happened. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cya's tumblr](https://cyanello.tumblr.com)   
[my tumblr](https://cheswirls.tumblr.com)   
[art post on tumblr](https://cheswirls.tumblr.com/post/187853587112/when-a-raspy-voice-starts-singing-sabo-is)
> 
> so the next part, even tho i said this one is big, is around 10k. it's gonna leave me w around 40 pages left, hopefully around 50-60 by the end of the month. definitely sometime october, but i posted early again this time, so i'm not gonna specify anymore. it's whenever i get around to writing more. i am close tho, which feels amazing.
> 
> and the koarei tag becomes relevant this chapter!! i fell in love with them while writing this fic, so they're featured a few more times. mostly to contrast sabo's relationships, but still. they're there. next chapter goes til xmas! actually til the 30th, it's like pt 1 of a looooong winter break. if anyones turned around by the 'day x', i had to create a list to keep the dates straight, so if you so i can tell you which scene is on which date pretty easily.
> 
> hope you like this one -let me know what you think! and pls send cya your love too!!


	4. Chapter 4

Day 202

  
  


_ “Oh, by the way, have you seen my hoodie?” _

Sabo pauses his fingers, gaze moving to the red cloth bunched around his wrist. He purses his lips, knowing Ace can’t see him through the phone. He goes back to texting. “No.”

_ “Oh yeah? That was a nice pause there.” _

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

A key turning in the front door captures his attention, and he leans his head back to see it opening, Ace stepping into the house. Their eyes meet and the raven is then grinning.

“Guilty.”

Sabo frowns, turning back to his phone. The door shuts behind him, and then Ace is leaning on the couch, looking over his shoulder. “Caught me,” he mumbles.

“You thief.” Ace hums, bringing his face closer. “Who you texting?”

“Kuina.”

“Oh yeah? Never would’ve guessed that.”

Sabo lets a smile crawl onto his face. “What can I say? I like girls that can wield swords.”

“Hmm.” Ace slumps down against the armrest. “Anything important?”

“Just helping her with stuff for her business class.”

“And suddenly you’re the expert on business?”

Sabo’s fingers pause. “No. Just uh, remembered some stuff I picked up from my family. She asked, and I knew how to help, so I’m doing what I can.”

“Huh.”

He looks up. Ace is watching him, his expression unreadable. “What?”

“You’ve just never mentioned your family before.”

He turns his eyes away. “I don’t like talking about them.”

Ace shrugs. “Yeah, I can understand that.” He nudges Sabo then straightens up, throwing his arms above his head in a stretch. “C’mon, let’s go eat already! I’m starving.”

“Sure.” He sends off another text and then pockets the phone in the jacket, rising to his feet. Ace jerks the door open and Sabo shivers as he’s met with the brisk air. “Where is it, again?”

“This pizza place Luffy likes. It’s not too far from here. I usually end up getting a large, but you can get whatever.”

He hums. “Yeah, a medium sounds good.”

“Oka-”

“On top of a large, that is.”

Ace turns his head and Sabo smirks. He turns back when the light goes green. “Actually, I get two larges.”

“If you’re turning this into a competition, just say so.”

Ace laughs. “You’re on.”

-

He’s not laughing as they leave the place, head hung in defeat. Sabo comes around the side, sniggering, and pops the car door open.

“Damn, Sab, way to run me dry!”

“You said you were paying.”

Ace sighs, pushing the key into the ignition. He rattles the receipt in his other hand, letting it fold out to hit the console. “That’s before I knew I’d end up with this! I’m flat broke now.”

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t like it. You’re just mad you lost.”

It’s silent for a moment as Ace pulls out of their parking spot, but they’ve dissolved into giggles before leaving the lot. The conversation rolls as they make their way back to Garp’s, and Sabo keeps an easy smile on the whole way there. Ace was just so easy to talk to. He doesn’t think he’s had an easier time with it than anyone he’s ever met, and with the group he was fond of, that was saying a lot. 

They’re still laughing as they come through the door, the sight of Garp’s car in the driveway doing nothing to dampen the mood. 

“Hey,” Ace suddenly says, reaching out to knock Sabo’s shoulder. Sabo turns to face him and his eyes are twinkling. “You should stay over tonight. Luffy will be there, we can just watch a bunch of movies all night. It’ll be fun!”

Sabo blinks, but doesn’t take long to think it through. “Yeah, sure! That sounds great. Let me grab some things real quick, then I’ll be set.”

Ace waves him off, taking a seat on a couch, already reaching for the remote. “Go for it.”

He’s reaching for the handle to his door when a grunt gets his attention. Sabo perks up, eyeing the room down the hall, and after a moment lets his feet carry him there. He peeks his head into Garp’s room, lips still curved into an easy smile. “Need something?”

Garp gestures him in and the seriousness of his expression dampens Sabo’s own. He steps in, suddenly a bit more cautious. “Something wrong?”

“You can’t go with Ace,” Garp says bluntly. 

Sabo pauses. “W-What?”

“Staying somewhere overnight is a contract breach.”

His mouth falls open. “But I-I already-”

“I don’t care what you tell him.” Garp shrugs. “Just tell him something.” He looks up to meet Sabo’s gaze, but turns away before too long, sighing. “Sorry, kiddo. Outta my hands, y’know?”

No, he didn’t. Sabo’s eyes narrow, lips pursed. “What if I go anyway?”

He resists flinching as Garp turns to him again, expression colder. He hadn’t seen that yet. “Don’t,” Garp tells him, and Sabo just nods, expression drooping. He turns to the door with a sigh, fiddling with the sleeves of Ace’s jacket.

After a moment he moves to shrug it off, padding back down the hall.

Ace looks up when he comes back into the living room, flicking off the TV. “Ready?”

“Uh, no.” He holds out the jacket and Ace takes it, confused. “I’m not feeling well. Another night, okay?”

Ace frowns, and Sabo turns away to avoid those prying eyes. He lets his frown deepen. “Sorry.”

“That’s . .” Ace trails off, looking to the jacket in his grasp. “Fine. I’ll just -go, then.” He heads to the door and Sabo’s stuck there, unable to follow. He grabs at his arm, uncomfortable. 

“See ya.”

Ace has opened the door at this point, and he turns back to look at Sabo. Sabo isn’t sure what he was expecting, some menial reply. A  _ sure _ or  _ yeah _ or something with little effort. Instead Ace just eyes him, stares him down for a moment like he’s questioning, like he  _ wants _ to say, then decides there’s no point.

He lets the door swing shut without a word, and Sabo’s left standing there, wishing it could all be different, hating the circumstances for what they were.

-

Day 209

  
  


Sabo slips his eyes shut as he lets his head be tilted back, fingers working through his damp hair. He’s leaned up against Cavendish’s couch, the older blonde sat cross-legged on the cushions above him. “Smells good,” he hums. “What is it, again?”

“Hair butter. It’s good for your scalp.” Cavendish lifts his hands to pick at a nail, then goes back to lathering Sabo’s head. “I’m surprised you have some.”

Robin’s smirk comes to mind. “I acquired it. But, you’re right, I normally wouldn’t bother.”

“I can’t imagine  _ why _ . It’s good for you.”

“Not all of us can care about our hair as much as you do.”

He just snorts. “Alright, spill. What’s your distressing problem? You wouldn’t let me do this otherwise.”

That was true. He hesitates, though, still not sure about broaching it. “It’s . . I haven’t seen Ace in a week.”

Cavendish’s hands pause. Sabo tilts his head back a little, opening his eyes to meet a pair of clear blue ones. His lips are pursed, and Sabo blinks at this. “What?”

“Who’s fault is it?”

His eyes slide away. Neither of theirs, really, but . . “Dunno,” he mumbles.

Cavendish tips his head forward again and goes back to his musings. “Sounds like it’s yours, then.”

“Well-”

“Ah! I’m not done.” Sabo falls silent. “Been watching the news?”

“Not really.”

“It’s been all about the intent of The Revolutionaries back when they were active. What their goals were, shit like that. That’s big for someone like Ace, so it wouldn’t be unusual for him to seclude himself to delve more into it. None of us are really supportive enough to offer any insight, so that’s just how it goes.” He shrugs. “That’s one possibility. Has this happened before?”

“Not for this long.”

“Hmm. So there’s option two.”

Sabo shifts. “What do you mean?”

“Ace is confrontational by nature, but he only puts forth so much effort. He’s probably waiting for you to apologize this time. Or, at least, be the one to reach out.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” he mutters. Cavendish pulls on his hair and he winces.

“Ace is a people person, but he does appreciate two-way communication. He’s also stubborn as hell, so if something’s really bothering him, you’ve gotta be the one to to ask about it.” He gestures to Sabo’s phone, sprawled out on the carpet. “You don’t have to start off with the heavy stuff. Just start talking again.”

“Right.” He reaches out, thumb skimming across the screen. He takes a moment before unlocking it, scrolling to a familiar contact. “ . . Anything?”

“Anything.”

**[ 2:50 ]** what did you end up getting garp?

He sets the phone in his lap, humming. Cavendish nods in satisfaction, dipping his fingers back in the butter. It doesn’t take long for him to glance back at his phone, and his lips quirk up at the sight he’s greeted to.

_ Ace is typing. _

-

Day 211

  
  


It’s snowing on Christmas.

Sabo spends the day inside, eyeing the flurries he can see out the window with distaste and wrapping the scarf Koala had given him tighter around his neck. He’s in an old jacket today, but it’s thin and doesn’t really help with the cold like he expected it might. 

His hair is long enough now to be tied in a small knot, and it’s tucked into the scarf, pressed against his neck. It tickles as he stands to get the door as a loud knocking rings out, but he can’t bring himself to do anything about it, so he ignores it.

His smile dims a little as he opens the door to a man in a delivery hat, and the overwhelming smell of oriental food hits him. He quirks a brow but Garp’s voice behind him has him moving aside.

“Ah, that’s for me.” Garp steps forward and digs out his wallet, nodding to the man, who holds out a receipt in return. 

Sabo’s miffed smile turns into a light frown. “I didn’t know any restaurants were open today,” he says, crossing his arms.

“They aren’t,” Garp replies. That’s all he says, shuffling ones and finally handing out the correct cash. Sabo raises a brow, and after a few moments, the delivery boy takes pity on him.

“We owe him a favor,” he says, nodding towards Garp. Sabo’s eyes flash. That made more sense. Finally, the money and food get shuffled around, and the man tips his hat, stuffing the bills into a small pouch that went inside a heavy coat. “Have a good night!”

“You too, kid,” Garp gruffs out, then roughly shuts the door. “Damn. It’s cold.”

Sabo uncrosses his arms as the heat sets back in. “Yeah.”

Garp moves back toward the kitchen with the bag and Sabo trails after, watching as it gets set down on the table and Garp moves to grab bowls. 

“So, no home-cooked meal for Christmas?”

Garp begins to laugh before the words are all the way out. “Me? Cook? That’s hilarious. The boys can’t cook for shit either. Luffy would eat everything before it was done. Ace burns everything he touches. This is pretty much a norm, when they’re over.” He walks back and carelessly drops the bowls and silverware on the table. “Got a problem with it?”

“No.” He sniffs the air again, and he does have to admit that it smelled good. “Food is food.”

There’s roughly a one-and-a-half pounding on the front door before loud voices shout at each other from the other side, and Sabo sighs, turning back to the living room. By the time he makes it to the door and opens it, Ace has just dug his key out, and him and Luffy are tangled together, still arguing. It takes them a moment to realize the light hitting their faces means the door had been open, and then they’re turning to face him, Ace’s expression morphing into a less-angry, more-smiley one, and Luffy’s mouth falling open as the smell hits him.

“The food’s here?” he asks quickly, so fast Sabo can barely comprehend, and he’s smart enough to move out of the way before saying it was. In a flash, Luffy’s untangled from Ace and through the entryway, leaving his brother sprawled out in the snow, scowling.

“Luffy!” he calls. “You asshat, you better wait for all of us!”

Sabo snickers, then steps forward and offers a hand. Ace takes it with a sigh, brushing off once he’s up, then reaches back down to grab a few boxes that had fallen onto the porch. He moves into the house, past Sabo, and further into the living room. “Grab my keys?” he says over his shoulder, and Sabo nods, bending down to grab them and setting them on the small table behind the couch.

“You find something good?” Sabo asks as Ace walks back his way, gesturing to the boxes. Ace just grins in response, grabs his arm, and pulls him toward the kitchen.

To their surprise, Luffy is laughing when they walk in and not inhaling his food. He’s sat down across from Garp, both their bowls only slightly empty, and talking only in slightly-raised voices. Two other bowls are filled, and the excess trash is gathered at the foot of the table. Ace grabs him by the shoulders before the two notice they’ve come in and points to the bowl on the far side, which now Sabo can see is a little less full and a little more picked-through than the others. “That’s yours,” he half-whispers, then lets go to hurry over to claim the full bowl. Sabo stands there for a moment, then works the grimace on his face into a frown, eyes lidding in annoyance. 

“Fine, fine,” he mutters, taking a seat in the last chair.

The majority of the meal was spent with Luffy recalling stories of his friends to Garp, which slowed his food intake, surprisingly. Sabo mostly tuned it out, spending his time observing everyone. Luffy used a lot of hand motions when he talked, and he watches as Ace begins to guard his bowl every time those hands got a little too close with their movement. Garp nods along at regular intervals, and Sabo has no doubt he’s listening, but whether or not he’s processing everything is another story. He still hasn’t really looked at Ace. Ace hasn’t said anything to him, either.

Then he finds himself sharply tuned back in to Luffy’s words.

“Franky brought this new RC car he built too, and it’s so fast! He let us all try it out, and we had races, but of course Robin won them all! We all said it was unfair, because she’s definitely had the most practice with it, y’know? But she had to leave after that, something about her job, so then Usopp started winning all the rounds.” Luffy sighs, throwing his elbows on the tabletop. “Still, it sucks she had to leave like that! Stupid government job thingy.”

Sabo, after not breathing for a solid seven seconds and then transitioning to an immediate coughing fit, finally grabs his drink as Luffy’s tangent ends. Robin. There was no mistaking it. When the mention of a Franky, and her  _ government job _ , it was the Robin he knew. He sets down his drink and finds all eyes on him, and blinks. “Yes?”

“You okay?” Ace asks.

Sabo bobs his head. “Oh! Yeah. Just surprised.” he tips his head a little to Luffy. “I . . didn’t think you would know Robin.”

“Hm?” Luffy scoops up more food with his fork, swallows what he was chewing, and shovels it in, replying with how mouth full. “Robin? Yeah, we’re great friends. How do you know her?”

“Uh, through a friend,” Sabo titters, turning to face his own food.

“Oh. Cool! Oh yeah, that reminds me!” He launches into another story, and Sabo risks a glance up. Ace is looking at him oddly, but it didn’t seem to hold any suspicion, which was good. Damn. Why did he say that? It was like he was pulled in by the fast-paced conversation. That hadn’t ever really happened before. He chews on his lower lip, thinking he’d have to be careful about that in the future.

After dinner, Luffy almost jumps over the table in his rush to exit the room, yelling about presents. Ace, at the first shout, sits up ramrod straight, then bolts after his brother, shouting about not touching anything. Garp lets out a hearty laugh and ambles off to his room, and by the time Sabo has made it across the kitchen, he’s emerged with a couple gift bags.

Luffy’s bouncing on one of the couches, a smaller box on the armrest, and twice before Garp and Sabo have sat down, his arm has managed to knock it off, only a quick reflex letting him snag it from the air before it fell. Sighing, Garp hands Ace one of the bags first, which causes Luffy to gasp and Ace to smirk, taking it with a certain smugness Sabo knows comes with being a sibling (he knows because Koala shows it to him all the time, not because he actually had a sibling. Well.)

But, like the more polite, older brother he was, Ace takes the bag and sets it on the ground, and Luffy’s frown is quickly wiped off his face as Garp hands him his bag and Ace nods at him. With a sharp inhale, he’s quick to rip at the tissue paper and turn the bag over, shaking out its contents.

On his lap was . . . a jump rope.

Sabo stares.

Luffy takes one second to process what it is before throwing his arms in the air, the bag flying to the other side of the room. “Awesome!” he shouts, then jumps to his feet, uncoiling it. “Oh wow, it’s long, too!”

“Don’t let your Zoro friend cut this one with those swords of his, you hear?” Garp snaps. Luffy chuckles nervously in response. 

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try! Thanks gramps! I love it! I’m gonna try it out now, okay?” With a careless motion, he kicks a corner of the center table with a foot, making room for himself, and takes position. Garp’s sudden hearty laugh turns into choking, and Ace starts to process.

In the end, it’s Sabo that steps forward and catches the rope just before it can hit the lightbulb in the ceiling fan. Luffy blinks up in surprise, eyes moving from where Sabo’s hand was around the cord to where the bulb sat, innocent and not-broken. Sabo drops the rope and it falls to the floor.

“Maybe not inside, Luffy,” he suggests.

“Huh.” Luffy blinks again. “That went a lot better in my head.”

“Oi, brat! Don’t break my stuff!” Garp snaps. Luffy drops the handles and glares back at Garp. 

“What did you expect? For me to go outside? Really??”

“You’re right, what  _ did  _ I expect, of course your first instinct would be to try it out in a cramped space-”

“I’m opening my gift!” Ace says loudly, dramatically picking up his bag from the floor. Luffy begrudgingly takes a seat, Sabo sits on the arm of the couch Ace occupied, and Garp turns to watch as he slides a cowboy hat out from the paper.

It was . . very orange.

Very.

That didn’t seem to bother Ace, though. Rather surprisingly. It was a very gaudy color. But he stares at it for a few moments, turning it this way and that, and then smiles real big, placing it on his head. 

“It fits,” he notes, tipping it up. He turns to Sabo. “How do I look?”

Was that a real question? “Uh.”

“Awesome!” Luffy says, jumping to a stand. “I love it!”

“Yeah, I think I do too.” Finally, really, for the first time that night, he turns to face Garp. “Thank you.”

Garp blinks in surprise, but his response is quick enough to cover it up. “Yeah. No problem. Glad you like it.”

“Oh! My turn, my turn!” Luffy grabs the small package from the couch and thrusts it at Garp, then sits on the armrest where it had been and starts bouncing his leg.

“Ah. Thanks, Luffy.” Garp purses his lips and tears at the plain wrapping to reveal a white box. He pops the lid and lifts a mug out of it.

Sabo turns his head, muffling a snort. Garp frowns.

The mug read, in big font, ‘#2 grandpa’. 

It’s silent for a good two moments. Then, Luffy scoots closer. “So? You like it?”

“Lu, I thought you said you had a good present!” Ace snaps. Luffy sticks out his tongue.

“I did! But they were out of the ones that said number one! Sometimes you have to settle,  _ Ace _ .”

Sabo finally managed to work back on a straight face, dropping his hands from his mouth. The irony of that was hilarious. Dragon had a collection of ‘Second Best Boss’ mugs from all of The Revolutionaries, in part to waiting until the first best were already nowhere to be found, and because some of them were just dicks like that. He still used them, because they were pretty big mugs, and Sabo had never seen Dragon without a big cup of water or coffee or the cheapest whiskey he could find, but every time he got another one, he got this pinched look on his face . . just like what Garp looked like now.

Finally, Garp sighs, setting the mug aside. “Thank you, Luffy.”

“Ha! See! He liked it!”

“He’s just being nice, Lu!”

“Shut  _ up _ , Ace! Just give him yours already!”

“Mine?” Garp turns to face Ace again. “You . . ?”

“Ah . .” Ace rubs at his arm, then glances to the couple packages across the room. “Yeah.” he stands up, grabs one of them, and walks back around to hand it off. “Merry Christmas, and all that.”

It takes Garp a minute to turn from Ace to the gift, and then he’s opening it, even a little faster than he did Luffy’s. He pulls out the biggest package of rice crackers Sabo has ever seen. 

“I hope you know, it was hard to find those,” Ace grouses. “And even harder to keep Luffy out of them-”

“Ah!” Luffy jumps up again and points. “Those were for Gramps? You should’ve told me! Then maybe I wouldn’t have tried to get into them one- no, four -maybe!- times, uh . .” He points at Ace. “You didn’t tell me!”

Ace pointedly ignores him. Garp lets the box fall to the ground, grasping the package with both hands.

“I haven’t had rice crackers since Sengoku was alive.” 

He takes a moment to rip open the top, then takes a few in his hand and pops them in his mouth. He hums after a moment, nodding. “They’re good, too. Thank you.” He stands, then comes over to plop a hand on Ace’s head, pushing the new hat back and musing his dark locks. “I appreciate it.”

Ace’s lips curl, and he knocks Garp’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, fixing his hair. “Luffy, go show him your new jump rope already.”

“Oh! Right!!” Luffy grabs it from the floor with one hand and tugs Garp’s arm in the other. “C’mon Gramps! We can go out the back, there’s gotta be less snow there, right?”

“Okay, okay, let go! I’m coming!” Sabo blinks and then the back door is slamming shut, their voices muted but still carrying into the house.

“Hobby of his?” he questions.

“He picked it up as a kid, and he’s so flexible he got really good at it really fast. It’s more like a talent, now, but he hasn’t had a good one in a year or so.” Ace’s voice gets closer the longer he speaks, and when he finishes, something presses into Sabo’s arm. He turns from looking out the door to face Ace, and finds the last package in front of him.

“Take it,” Ace tells him. “It’s yours.”

Sabo raises a brow, but does. “Mine,” he mumbles. “What for?”

“Why not? Besides, you’ll like it.” Ace takes a seat on the skewed coffee table. “Just open it.”

He does, and when he pops off the top of the box, finds himself staring at a pile of fabric. He blinks.

“I hope it fits,” Ace begins. “It should, but you could still try it on now, in case it doesn’t.”

Sabo unrolls the fabric as he’s talking, and folds it out, his jaw dropping.

In his hands was a coat. A thick, winter one, too, one that looked kinda expensive, actually.

“Oh,” he breathes out.

“You uh, you don’t really have any winter clothes, do you?” Ace asks. 

Sabo blinks, but he’s not necessarily offended by the question. “No, not really.” he unzips the coat, coming to a stand. “I guess now I do.”

Ace chuckles, rising as well. “Right, right.”

It fit perfectly. Sabo adjusts it again over his shoulders, then zips it halfway, plunging his cold hands into the pockets. He hums, nodding. 

“Like it?”

“Yeah.” He turns and smiles at Ace. “Yeah, this is good. Thank you. Really.”

Ace turns his head away, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. “S’no problem.”

A loud banging on the glass of the back door has them turning to see Luffy gesturing for them, and with a sigh, Ace marches over. Sabo finds himself following at a slower pace, chuckling as Ace throws the door open.

“Don’t bang on the glass, stupid!”

“Shut up! Come watch me already!”

“Fine!” He moves out and shoves the door so Sabo can get through, and then all four of them crowd the porch to watch Luffy jump rope. The kid was really good, and with the cold no longer being a concern, Sabo lets the time pass without notice. When they all finally make it back in, tired and a little wet, Garp gathers all the trash from the night and tells them to turn on a movie. All three of them pile onto a couch and flick on the TV, but the mood shifts once the sound comes on, being a little late to start compared to the screen.

Sabo stops breathing.

_ “-the sudden reveal of one of the names of The Revolutionaries, Inazuma.” _

Luffy and Ace grow quiet. Sabo doesn’t pay them mind, scanning the rolling text as the news anchor doesn’t talk fast enough. Ina-Inazuma?  _ Their _ Inazuma? How the -what the fuck? They got one of their names?  _ How? _ Was it only their first name? They weren’t showing a picture. It was kinda a unique name, though, that could be a problem-

Who was he kidding. It was all a problem. A huge,  _ fucking _ problem. 

_ “Guess you could call this the best kind of Christmas gift. We might have a legitimate lead here-” _ One of the other reporters was saying, now. Sabo tunes him back out as Garp comes in, looking up from the screen only to meet his gaze. Or, well, try to. He was looking to the TV with the same expression of grim horror. Guess that meant he hadn’t known this was coming. He’d lived with Garp long enough to know he couldn’t act for shit.

“All they have is a name. A first name.” Luffy sniffs, leaning back into the cushions again. “That’s boring. Hey, Ace, change it already!”

No. That wasn’t boring at all, it was very dangerous. Sabo risks a glance at Ace, and he can see his mind working as he hyperfocuses on what was being said, even when they just started repeating the same thing, the stupid name, and pointless speculation. Sabo notices they don’t say where they got the information. There’s not any mention of a source at all, actually.

After a minute Luffy pries the remote from Ace’s hand and changes the channel himself, looking for a movie and grumbling to himself. Sabo turns to Garp again to find him rubbing his temples with one hand and sighing. He glances at Sabo, but the blonde can’t read his expression, and then he’s walking back into the kitchen. 

Luffy eventually finds a movie, and Garp comes back, but it’s clear no one is really paying attention. Ace is lost in thought, Sabo is too busy being terrified, Garp is on his phone half the time, and the atmosphere makes Luffy antsy, enough that he mutes the volume at one point to see if it would gather attention. It didn’t.

The mood of the night had changed completely.

-

Day 214

  
  


Inazuma goes into hiding.

The reports give nothing of their appearance, whereabouts, or current status. Not even a last name to tack on. Still, the fact they had what they had at all was enough to be cautious. Within the next day, the 26th, Inazuma is completely out of view of the public eye.

Sabo hears this through Ivankov, and it’s only after he personally treks all the way out to the club himself. He doesn’t hear from Inazuma directly. He doesn’t hear from Koala. He doesn’t hear from Robin. He tries not to let that last part get to him, even if he had been hoping a little.

Everyone goes silent.

The news stations repeat the same thing over and over. All they can offer is baseless speculation. Sabo keeps the TV off when he’s alone in the house.

Ace comes over with notebook number four and hashes out theory after theory, filling page after page. He doesn’t find any hits on the name Inazuma. Sabo know why, and he keeps quiet about it, too. Everyone suspicious is labeled as a possible Inazuma in the notebook. The name is added and worked through every possible position for a terrorist group Ace can come up with. He doesn’t get it right, because The Revolutionaries are an unconventional group, but Sabo doesn’t garner any satisfaction from it. He’s still sick to his stomach over the fact their name had been revealed at all.

Sabo lets Ace bounce his ideas off him, but he doesn’t offer anything in return. He sits there and instead tries to decide if this was how the rest of the public thought, or it this was specific to Ace. He mostly sits there and tries not to throw up, or rush out the door, or lie down and cry.

Four days after Christmas, the snow stops coming, and the roads begin to get cleared. Sabo officially hadn’t left the house in a week, and once Ace finds out, he convinces him to take the next day to run around town with him. Convincing himself it couldn’t possible get any worse at the moment, Sabo sighs, gives up, and gives in. He could use a day of distraction. Fretting over this wasn’t getting him anywhere, it was just making him miserable.

It was just a first name. Nothing was going to happen.

-

Day 215

Unsurprisingly, it got worse.

Ace is at the door, Sabo right behind him, when he gets a call. Unsuspecting, he fumbles for a moment, and then squints at the ID. It was Koala. With a smile to Ace as apology, he answers it. “Hello?”

For a couple seconds, only puffs of air greet him. Then Koala’s voice comes through, loud but harried.  _ “Dragon? Tiger.” _

Sabo blinks, but his posture tightens. “What is it?”

_ “A 10-80,” _ comes her reply, crisp and sharp.  _ “12-14.” _

“Seal?? Wait-” He presses the receiver to his chest, jerking his head to Ace. “I’ll meet you outside, okay? I have to grab something.”

“What?” Ace’s face screws up, but Sabo is already lifting the phone up and heading to his room. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be out soon,” he calls back, distracted. Ace says something else, but he ignores it, shutting the door. “Tiger?”

_ “Here. Listen, I’m heading to Point C now, I just wanted to let you know because you had plans. I’m sending a message-” _ A beeping interrupts her, a notification on Sabo’s phone, and she huffs out a breath.  _ “-now. I gotta go. Oh, wait.”  _ She huffs. _ “Don’t expect anything from Wyvern, this time.” _ She hangs up, abrupt as always, and Sabo scrambles to unlock his phone properly.

He had three notifications to an old app he hadn’t opened in eight months. With a glance to the closed door, he clicks on it and sinks to the ground, skimming over everything.

**[ Tiger ] ** 10/80 w 12-14 

**[ Tiger ] ** En route to pt c

**[ Crow ] ** Stationary atm. Booting up software. Limited

**[ Viper ] ** moving to pt c, 3min eta

Sabo drops his phone and swiftly moves across the room to jerk up his backpack. He upturns it, spilling its measly contents, on his way to his closet, then tugs his blue sweatshirt into it. After a moment’s hesitation, he rips off a pair of cargo pants with deep pockets from a hanger, letting it fall discarded to the ground, and stuffs them in as well. He moves to the bathroom and digs in the drawer until he pulls out a sharp pair of scissors, then puts those in a front slot, where he had easy access.

He drops the pack at the foot of his bed and grabs his phone again.

**[ Dragon ] ** heading to pt r

**[ Dragon ] ** 12-14 where?

**[ Tiger ] ** Pt c clear and secure

**[ Tiger ] ** I’ll head to pt r

**[ Tiger ] ** 202nd n MoriST

**[ Lobster ] ** gathering supplies now

**[ Lobster ] ** mvng pt c, 70th and elkwood. Viper, location?

**[ Viper ] ** CAN YOU SEE ME

**[ Lobster ] ** yes

Sabo throws a dark jacket on, pulling the hood over his hair, and grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. It’s easy work to open the shutter doors and pull the window. Thankfully he didn’t have a screen, or the whole thing would have been unnecessarily troublesome. He slides under the window and stands back up in the wet grass of the backyard. 

**[ Dragon ] ** nice to hear from you, l

**[ Lobster ] ** yea

**[ Crow ] ** tiger, lmk if my hardware is at pt r; viper, same w c. I’ll move to where it is

Sabo hops the fence and wastes no time in sprinting through the back streets of Garp’s suburb. 10/80 was an organized hit, but why now? And from who?? After such a period of inactivity. The hit had been closer to point R, a safehouse on the fourth floor of an abandoned storage facility, and if Koala knew of it first, she must’ve been meeting up with Seal. Did she check R before she called him, or did she head all the way to C to start with?

**[ Lobster ] ** w viper, cnvrgng on pt c now

**[ Tiger ] ** Dragon, eta??

He moves out of the text portion of the app to one of the maps of the capital, scrolling to where he knew the safehouse was. 

**[ Dragon ] ** 14m. ill make it 9

**[ Viper ] ** crow, nothing here

**[ Crow ] ** Got it. No pursuits on anyone, moving to pt r now

**[ Crow ] ** Give me 5 m

**[ Tiger ] ** You’ll still beat dragon

**[ Dragon ] ** HEY

Point C was the top floor of a very run-down and under-kept apartment building that had been rented out somewhere close to the next two hundred years in funds, courtesy to the former head of the Outlook estate, not that he knew anything of it. Especially not now. 

It was space, and no one was batting an eye, which was all that mattered. Throughout the entire capital, those were the only two safe points. They tried not to stick around, or be here at all, that often.

Well. They  _ did _ .

**[ Tiger ] ** Crow, its been 7min

**[ Tiger ] ** Status?

Sabo tries his best to move through the busy areas, doing very little to disguise his hurried movements. His hood was pulled down low. He was close. Just a few more blocks. Another ding had him glancing down.

**[ Crow ] ** Pursuit, dealt w. SW to r thigh. Eta 2m

Oh shit.

In one clear movement he rips the scissors from their slot and holds them tight in one hand, folding his sleeve over to conceal them.

**[ Dragon ] ** clear now??

**[ Crow ] ** Yes, i made sure

**[ Lobster ] ** thats not all

**[ Lobster ] ** what else

**[ Crow ] ** GSW, graze only, r shoulder

**[ Viper ] ** grabbing car, will have lobster to pt r soon

**[ Crow ] ** Fine

Sabo sighs in irritation, shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket, and slams open the bottom door of the building. Of course he forgot to check himself, got everyone  _ but _ himself, and now he’d be showing up injured,  _ goddamnit. _

“Sabo?” Koala calls, when he reaches the third floor landing. He hurries up the last set of stairs.

“Yeah, it’s me!”

“Good, I’m just finishing setting everything up.” He’s at the large doorway as she ends the sentence, taking a moment to survey the room. Koala was off to one side, crouched beside a small wall of computer equipment that must’ve been for Crow. Closer to Sabo, a couple plastic bins had been pulled out, and he tosses aside the pair of scissors in favor of stalking over to his own bin, his name scrawled haphazardly over the side. Koala finally glances up as he starts sorting through it.

“Any trouble getting here?”

He shakes his head, pulling out a long piece of beaten metal. His hood flips off as he stands up, pipe in hand, and swipes out with it, adjusting his footing. Yeah. That felt a lot better than an old curtain rod.

“How long ago?”

“Twenty minutes, almost,” is Koala’s swift reply. “I was still a block away, so I couldn’t make out any details.”

He hums, already digging back through his bin. “Hey, where’s-”

“Your bat? You left it at Point C.”

Her voice is closer now, and he glances up to see her looming over him. She crouches down and holds out the handle of a knife to him, grasping it from the blunt end. He quirks a brow, but takes it. “This is?”

“Long hair is a hazard.” She’s grinning, now. “You know this.”

His free hand automatically moves back to the small knot at the base of his neck. Both his brows furrow, but he can already see hers has been freshly cut, all the way to her chin. He purses his lips and her grin widens as she leans back. Damn. She was right, though.

Sighing, he takes the knife in one hand and the majority of his hair in another.

-

Heavy footsteps alert them to another presence, as Sabo is pulling on the cargo pants. His shoes sit discarded further away, as he’d managed to dig up a scuffed pair of boots from his bin. Koala glances at him before wandering closer to the stairs, tightening the strap around her waist as she went.

“Karasu?” she calls.

After a couple moments, a low “yeah” is her reply. She hums and steps back. 

“I hope we have a mic around here,” she mutters, dragging another bin further out into the room. 

Karasu is as tall as always, but the doorway is plenty big enough, so he slides through without ducking under, though he is dragging his leg a little. Sabo’s gaze moves to it, but his pants are dark, so it’s hard to see anything. On the other hand, there’s a clear hole in the air of his shirt, and it’s still dribbling blood.

His hand shoots up to catch the object Koala has thrown at him, scowling. “I’m  _ injured _ , you know.”

“And who’s fault is that,” Sabo mutters, crouching to pull on the boots.

Karasu whips his head toward him. “I don’t need to hear that from you. Who’s fault was the big  _ burn _ on your body, huh-”

“Okay okay.” Koala sighs. “Put on the mask so we don’t have to strain to hear your wonderful voice. And how did you stay inconspicuous on the way here looking like  _ that _ ?”

Karasu huffs before doing as told, tying the straps of what Koala had thrown at him -a megaphone in the shape of a mask, something to amplify his quiet voice. He clicks the switch on. “Not easily, I’ll tell you that.”

Sabo runs his fingers over his left side, where the skin is deeply scarred, and then jerks his blue sweatshirt on, letting the smooth, familiar fabric cover what he couldn’t see. He grasps a handful of loose threads from the bottom and uses the knife to slice them off.

Karasu is already typing away when he works his way over to the setup, a few monitors lit and a hefty box humming. It doesn’t take him long before he stops, hands hovering over the keys. “Hm. Nice ride. They have a bluetooth stereo.”

“What does that have to do with-” Sabo’s cut off as Karasu hits a button, and Seal’s voice erupts around them.

_ “And ANOTHER thing: it’s too hot in here, really, would it kill you to-” _

His hand tightens around the knife as he pivots, and Koala turns the opposite way, scanning the room. From beneath them, Karasu sighs. “Relax.”

Seal’s voice lowers to a reasonable volume, and Karasu taps one of the black boxes on the ground. “Speaker system. No one’s here.”

“Oh God!” A voice sounds from the stairwell, and Sabo tenses for a split second before he recognizes it.

“Well. No one  _ was _ here,” Karasu mutters. His fingers move back over the keys, typing in a fury. “Give me a minute. I got a hit off her cell, let me track the vehicle.”

“Karasu!” Inazuma calls, coming through the doorway in a brisk pace, swinging a big kit at his side. “There’s blood on the ground, did you lie to me?”

“It’s not that bad,” he mutters, shifting so that he could type with one hand. Inazuma takes a seat beside him and sharply jerks the fabric around his shoulder open, revealing the wound. He twists the arm a little before zipping open the kit and grabbing a few things.

“Those speakers scared us!” Ivankov reveals to Sabo. “They were awfully loud. Damn, I forgot they were there, too!”

“Uh.” He watches as she pulls her own bin out and digs around, thrusting different containers and fuzes into a harness. It already contained a lot, so at this point she was overdoing it. “All ready, then?”

“Almost,” she says cheerfully, throwing him a wink. “Wanna make sure I have enough, to burn these fuckers to the ground.”

“I have it. Sabo!” Karasu calls, and he moves away from Iva back to the screens. His arm is bandaged now, Inazuma working on his leg, and he points sharply to a blinking cursor on one of the screens. “There. Moving towards downtown, more to -uh . .”

“The metro.” He breathes out a sigh. “The abandoned one. Not even the homeless venture over there.”

“Oh! That means we can do whatever, right?” Ivankov calls. 

“That means we only have to worry about structure integrity,” Sabo corrects. “Just because there’s no danger of civilian casualties doesn’t mean I want a building falling on me.” 

“They’re stopped,” Koala notes, and Sabo does his best not to jerk back. She was right by his ear, looking at the same screen. He turns back and nods. 

“Definitely the metro. Give me a minute.” He wanders back towards his bin and digs around for the downtown binder, pulling it out shortly and flipping through the papers. 

“Done.” Inazuma leans back, then zips up his kit. Karasu grunts a thanks, then another one as Inazuma catches the pair of pants Ivankov had thrown them from the hacker’s bin.

Seal’s voice comes through the speakers again as Karasu clicks it on, and everyone pauses for a moment to listen before it’s sharply cut off. That must be because they left the vehicle.

“Damn, Betts,” Inazuma mutters. “What have you gotten yourself into this time.”

“If they wanted her for a wild west shootout, all they’d have to do was ask,” Koala asks, standing once again. She holsters a small handgun into one of the belts and tightens the straps on the bag across her back that held her rifle. “How are we doing this, by the way?”

“Wait.” Sabo looks over to her. “He’s really not coming?”

“Have you heard from him so far?” she grounds out. He grits his teeth. “No, he’s not. That’s the biggest violation he can pull right now.”

“But Betty’s our planner-”

“If he thought we couldn’t do it without her, he would’ve shown up,” she snaps. “He’s not coming, okay? Shut the fuck up already!”

“My ride seats five,” Ivankov interjects, before Sabo can say anything else. “It has space in the back for storage, too.”

“I’ve got my laptop, and a backup.” Karasu finally stands up, already typing away on one of them. “I’m entering the coordinates now. Sabo, you’ve got a map?”

“Seven of the area, three of the metro.” He holds up the binder. “If you find where they’re keeping her, I’ll get us there.”

“Partially.” Inazuma shifts the kit on his person so he can dig into a bin. “We still have to figure out who’s doing this, and take out their leader.”

“I mean, we could just take out the metro. Not like it’s getting any use.” Ivankov shrugs, coming closer. 

Sabo throws on a worn jacket over his shirt, feeling for the slit before shoving his pipe through it, the familiar weight resting on his back. “As long as we get Betty first, I guess. And don’t attract too much attention.”

“I’m sure we’d get a cover-up,” Karasu huffs.

“Are you sure?” Koala’s digging through her own bin, and with one hand she gestures Sabo closer. “What if they just let the media run wild?”

“Okay, we’ll be a little more conspicuous!” Ivankov sighs, then drops one of her holsters to the ground. It lands with a heavy thud.

“You’re with me, okay? Carry these.” Koala thrusts a handful of cartridges at him and Sabo nods, already expecting this. He pockets all the ammo she gives him with the space in his pants. 

“We can talk about it along the way,” Inazuma says, pushing a couple of the bins back to their resting spots. “Let’s just head out.”

At least everyone could agree on that.

  
  


-

Iva’s car hits the edge of the curb when they turn and tosses Sabo into Koala, and Koala into the door. She lets out an ‘oof’ and turns to glare at him, but a moment later the car has stopped and she’s sliding the door open and pulling him through. 

They open the trunk and Karasu spills out, still typing away. “I’ve got her location and a heat sensor locked onto a bigger group, maybe about ten people.”

“How many are with her?” Sabo asks, taking a thin duffel bag and tying the strap to his waist.

“Three.”

“That’s manageable. Iva! You take Ina and go after the rest,” Koala calls to the front.

“Kay kay! Which side?”

“The east.”

“Got it. I’ll park here then.” The engine shutters to a stop and the two front doors open and close in rapid succession. “Don’t wanna blow the car up. We can meet back here.” She hip-checks Inazuma as they both grab their bags. “You’re still fit enough to run, right?”

“I’ve still got stamina, yes.” They snort. “If Betty needs me, just let me know,” he tells Koala.

Karasu grabs for a black bag and opens it, depositing earbuds into everyone’s hands. “The frequency is six. They should already be set to it.” He fumbles with his open laptop again. “Also, the street cameras appear to not be working, but I’m not entirely sure they can’t turn back on.”

Koala hums.

“I’ll try and disable them as we’re moving, but with them being off, it’ll be tricky.”

Sabo spots her looking through a scope just a moment after he’s finished talking, and with a panicked expression, reaches up to cover his ears.

Another moment later there’s a  _ bang _ and shattered glass is falling from across the street. Everyone flinches besides Sabo, and Koala lowers her muffler to around her neck, slinging her sniper rifle back into its bag.

“There’s one,” she mutters. “That way the car’s out of direct view. I’m not rescuing BBs successfully just to get out here and be surrounded by military police.”

“That’s probably fair, but a  _ warning _ would have been nice,” Inazuma spits, rubbing their ears. 

“I’ve got everything.” Ivankov steps away from the trunk. “Ina, let’s go!”

They head off and Koala throws the bag back over her shoulder. “Ready?”

“She’s near Q9, it’s a tunnel, but it looks like there’s a maintenance room. Some sort of door.” Karasu grabs a wire from a pocket and plugs it into the computer. “I’ll see if there’s any sound interference I can get into.”

“I’m ready.” Sabo slams the trunk shut. “Let’s go.”

-

They head down one of the longer tunnels at a quick pace, Karasu between the two. Sabo keeps one hand on his pipe, and Koala’s running with her handgun out in front of her, pointed at the ground but with the safety disengaged. 

_ “We’re at Q4 now, left or right?” _

“Left,” Karasu barks. He’s switched over to a handheld, sort of like a tablet, to make it easier to move. With practiced ease, he tosses it to Sabo, who glances at the map.

“Two more rights, then another left half a mile straight,” he says into his mic. Ivankov responds with an affirmative, and then he’s met with crackling from the earpiece.

He’s giving the handheld back when footsteps echo from up ahead, and without any hesitation, Koala lifts the gun and fires twice. There’s a loud cursing, more shuffling, and all three of them stop as someone snaps, the words indistinguishable from the distance.

Karasu and Sabo crouch in the rubble near the tracks as a shot rings out. Koala presses to the wall, still walking forward, but at a slower pace. It’s dark enough to where he isn’t worried for her.

Static crackles in his ear again.

_ “I don’t know what you three did but they know we’re here, now,” _ Inazuma snaps. 

_ “We’re setting up early!” _ In comparison, Iva’s voice is more cheerful.  _ “You’ll want to hurry, because the radius of this explosion’s gonna be a bitch.” _

More footsteps come closer and Koala stops, firing again. A scream rings out, and the sound of a body falling is loud. Indiscernible yelling echoes back toward them, but the footsteps get quieter as the person retreats.

Sabo and Karasu hurry up, and they all start down the tunnel again. 

“I don’t think I got him,” Koala tells them. “Not completely.”

They hear muffled sobbing the closer they get to their destination, and Sabo is once again tossed the handheld as Karasu whips out a knife, twirling it back on his wrist.

“HEY,” he calls out, and is met with a fearful scream. “Thought so,” he mutters.

Footsteps scramble up, but a choking sound cuts them off. So she got them in the leg, then.

Sabo and Koala each take a side of the tunnel and run past, heading towards the room Betty was in. He jerks the pipe from his jacket as they round the corner, and lash out at the guy standing just past, hitting him square in the ribs. He hears a few crack, and after a pained wheeze, the man collapses. 

“Who was it?” Sabo calls back. 

Karasu catches up with them moments later, putting the blade away. “The fucker who shot me. I  _ thought _ I recognized that voice.” His grin is big enough for the edges to be seen from behind his mask. “He recognized me, too.”

“What are you  _ doing now _ ?” a voice sounds from up ahead, and all three of them tense as they recognize it.

_ “You have three minutes,” _ sounds Ivankov from their ears.

They skid to a stop and Sabo kicks the heavy maintenance door inward, revealing low lighting, a grimy-looking man, and Betty with a gun pressed to her temple.

“It’s about damn time,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes but mostly looking annoyed.

The man’s breath hitches. “Stop, or I’ll-”

The next second he collapses to the ground, a gunshot through his forehead. Koala leans back.

“Guess you weren’t fast enough,” she mumbles.

Karasu steps into the room and slices the robes binding Betty, and she raises her arms high in the air in a stretch.

“About time! It’s so hot in here.”

He moves to the ones binding her ankles next. “You’re wearing a coat.”

“Are you trying to say it’s  _ my _ fault?”

“Here.” Sabo tosses the duffel to her, and her mouth opens as she unzips it. 

“You didn’t.” Her eyes widen. “You  _ did! _ ” She pulls out her twin pistols, immediately checking for ammo and squealing when she finds them loaded. 

“Is this serious?” Koala taps her cheek, where, mirrored on Betty, a laceration set.

She touches it, but after a moment, shakes her head. “I’m good. Where the hell am I, by the way?”

“Still in the capital. In the old metro, the one on the east side of town.” Karasu presses a hand to his ear. “Lobster, she has a cut, but it’s not serious. Proceed.”

_ “Roger.” _

“I’ll get her out,” Karasu tells Sabo and Koala, turning toward them. “You two back the others up.”

_ “You’ve got one minute, by the by.” _

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sabo says. Betty blinks, and he points to his ear. “Think we’ve got a cave-in coming, courtesy of loud-and-willing, so I hope you can run.

“Oh, trust me.” She shoves both pistols into the waistband of her pants. “That’s not a problem.”

-

Betty’s behind the wheel when the ground shakes, and Sabo barely has his door closed by the time she slams her foot into the gas, throwing everyone back in their seats. 

“Dragon’s not even here?” She  _ tsk _ s. “Well, I guess that’s understandable. Still, how on earth did you all group and carry out a plan without either of us?”

“With a lot of arguing,” Koala grumbles, still moving to throw their bags into the trunk while Karasu disables the last of the cameras around the metro from the seat beside her. 

_ “We’re coming out the nearest exit, but we don’t know where that is,” _ Ivankov says.

_ “Maybe terminal four? I think that’s what it said,” _ Inazuma follows up.

“We just passed that,” Sabo notes. He glances back and a moment later sees purple coils. “OH my god Betty stop!”

_ “What the fuck who’s driving my car!”  _ Iva screeches as Betty slams on the breaks, skidding the vehicle into a sharp loop. A loud cackling echoes through the channel from the one earbud she stole off of Karasu.

“Guess who!”

The back door jerks open and Karasu is pushed aside. “You bitch!” Iva yells. “If anything’s damaged, you’re paying for it!”

Koala scrambles to sit on the floorboards as Inazuma crawls in, and as soon as the door is shut, Betty is pulling out, spinning them back onto a proper road with the tires screeching.

“That’s funny if you think I have any cash to spare!”

“I’m glad you’re alright!”

“Yeah, it was fucking hot in there! Sabo, be a dear and turn on the AC!”

He’s not particularly hot, but he doesn’t question, jerking it all the way to full blast.

“Where are we headed, Mister Map Boy?” Betty asks him, this time at a more reasonable tone. 

“Drive to Oak and take two successive lefts. One of them’s a loop, so the next turn gets you off it.”

“Roger.” They speed up just slightly, but they’re still in the abandoned area of town, and all the street cams are still down, so he’s not concerned. 

“You need your book?” Koala asks. When he nods, she tosses it to him, and he peels it open to where he knows they are, finger scanning over the lines.

“We’ll head to C. That sound good?” Everyone says their affirmative, and Sabo looks back down, flipping the page back and forth to reference with a map with a red dot, where the safehouse was.

“Any idea who they were?” Karasu asks Betty. She shrugs.

“We didn’t get anything, either,” Inazuma says.

“Think it might be government?” Koala questions.

“I guess we’ll see what makes the news tonight,” Ivankov mutters. “Or tomorrow.”

“Right here,” Sabo mumbles. “Two blocks and you can turn in.”

“Yeah, I see it,” comes Betty’s reply. “God, I hate this place. Every time I see that ugly roof I’m reminded of it.” She turns away for a moment to look back. “I am glad you’re all here, though. Thanks for coming after me.”

She parks the car and Koala’s kicking her door open before Betty can get out. “BBs!” she cries out, pulling her into a hug, “I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“I’ll take care of that cut when we’re up there, Betts,” Inazuma says, pulling his kit from the back. She nods to him and rubs Koala’s back.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

-

With a heavy sigh, Sabo slides his pipe into a bin and pushes it back against the wall. There’s blood on the top of his boots, so he kicks them off and pulls the shoes he’d been wearing earlier out of one of the bags he’d brought. Koala corners him until he gives her all the casings from his pants, and after his pockets are emptied, he pulls them off and grabs for his ripped jeans. Inazuma’s hands stops him from pulling them on.

They gesture to the burn marks littering his leg. “I have that cream if you want it.” 

He hesitates for a moment, then shrugs the hand off. “I’m good. Thanks though.”

He folds his sweatshirt up and puts it into his backpack, then shrugs on a plain shirt and his dark jacket. From beside him, Betty reaches her leg out and shoves her own bin away. 

“Ugh. Normal life is so boring.” She’s typing away on her phone. “What about you, Sabo? Find anything to do in your time?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

He pointedly looks over at Koala, who’s refusing to look at him. Sighing, he looks down to meet Betty’s grin. “He’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

That reminds him, though. He digs his own phone out, finally closing out of the app. Scrolling back to the front, he finds he has several messages, which is unsurprising. He bites on his lip, though, wondering what he would say. What he  _ could _ say. Nothing like ‘hey, sorry, I had to go rescue my kidnapped mom-friend and possibly commit an act of micro-terrorism, but I’m okay, so it’s all good’ to try and convince someone you  _ weren’t _ part of the band of criminals they were so obsessed with. He shakes his head, opening his current thread with Ace.

“It wouldn’t work out, anyway.”

“Meh.” She pushes the other side of the bin so it was all even with the wall. “You have to try, first.”

**[ 01:34 ] ** where are you?????? ?? ???

**[ 01:37 ] ** if you were gonna ditch this was a really bad way to do it

**[ 02:00 ] ** are you okay at least?

**[ 02:17 ] ** sabo?

**[ 03:17 ] ** did i do something?

**[ 04:31 ] ** at least tell me you’re okay

He tastes blood from where he’d bit down too hard on his lower lip.  _ Im okay, _ he types out.

But he can’t press send.

-

Day 216

  
  


He’s sat around the low table in Cavendish’s apartment with Lami on one side and Nojiko on the other. The TV is turned on, for once. Kuina is on Lami’s other side, hugging her arm and pressed into her.

On the screen, smoke from the caved-in metro is shown. A rolling commentary is laying as they show footage of the area, from the previous day, and assessment of the wreckage earlier that day.

The only bodies they pulled out where the three from Q9. The one Karasu had slashed in the throat, the one Sabo had rib-punctured a lung, and the one Koala had shot in the head. 

He’d come home in the early evening, but it wasn’t a real surprise to find Garp sitting on the couch facing the windows when he walked in.

“Had a fun day?” he’d asked.

“Not really.”

“Sure looks like it.”

He’d cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

Garp opened his phone and scrolls for a second. “Northeast side, cave-in at old metro station, developing status, currently one casualty.”

“And you think that was me.”

This time Garp raised his brows. Sabo sighed, shrugging his backpack off one shoulder.

“Well, not like you can prove anything,” he said, feeling just a little daring after the adrenaline of the day, and moving past the couch. “I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”

Ace pushes into the room, the beginnings of words on his lips, but nothing comes out as his gaze lands on the TV. He listens for a moment, then decides to speak again. “Oh, so you’re already watching.”

He shuts the door and comes closer, and everyone’s eyes revert back to the screen. Except Sabo’s. His linger on Ace for a moment, but he can’t look away fast enough before grey orbs are meeting his own. He holds them for a moment, but then Ace is jerking away, taking a seat on the other side of Cavendish, the furthest away from him, and Sabo reverts his own attention back to the news.

Another report had come out on the night of the 30th, yesterday. Apparently Inazuma was tied to the codename Lobster, and -what a surprise!- six other codenames were revealed. It was up in the air if there were only seven members to The Revolutionaries -there were- or if the names had any sort of deeper connection to their real identities -they did, sort of- or all these other things that were too close to the truth to make Sabo’s skin crawl. 

He’d come out of his room just to shut the TV off. Not like Garp was home, anyhow, and he was tired of being on the verge of a panic attack.

Inazuma had tidied up Koala’s bob before she’d left, but Sabo hadn’t bothered. His blonde locks were stringy and ragged, but it felt good. Somehow, it felt good. 

Cavendish had taken one look at it when he came in tonight and immediately went to grab a brush. Sabo could deal with that. He actually felt a bit better with all the tangles gone. Lami had been upset that it wasn’t long enough to braid now, but she shrugged it off after he threw her a tired look.

Nojiko had been the one to come in and throw the TV on. They’d been looking at it since. Sabo felt so sick, but he forced himself to watch. The terror on his face matched everyone else’s, but it was for the wrong reasons.

A collective gasp spanned the room when they dragged out the first burned husk. The camera quickly pans away. Sabo’s the only one that doesn’t move, stone-faced.

He risks another glance to Ace. He meets his eyes again, watching him, and his breath catches, so he focuses on the screen again, trying to tune back in, to figure out what the normal reaction would be in this moment.

He doesn’t think he does very well.

Cavendish finally takes the remote and mutes the volume. Ace jerks his head back, a protest on his lips, but the blonde cuts him off. “ _ No,  _ Ace. I can’t watch this shit anymore. Enough.” He tips his head to Kuina, who’s shaking a little now, her lips pursed. Lami’s rubbing her arm, cheek resting on her head. Finally, Ace’s expression laxes, and he bobs his head.

The screen goes black. Beside him, Nojiko breathes out a sigh and leans back on her wrists. “That looks like a fucking nightmare to deal with,” she mutters. Her head lolls. “What do you think?”

Sabo flicks his gaze to her, a little spooked by the sudden attention. “Uh -yeah. Makes you wonder who did it.”  _ No! _ He mentally spits.  _ Wrong train of thought! Bad! No! _

“Who else?” Ace sits of straighter. “The Revolutionaries, right?”

“Aren’t they disbanded?” Sabo deadpans. Ace bristles, narrowing his eyes.

“You got any better ideas?”

“Can we not talk about this?” Lami voices, a little loudly. “Let’s -uh- what are we doing for Ace’s birthday tomorrow?”

“It’s your birthday?” Sabo asks, eyes widening. 

“Wait, you didn’t know that?” Kuina sits up, still scooted close to lami. “That’s . . surprising.”

He can’t really fight off the blush, and he doesn’t trust himself with speaking, so he just shakes his head.

“I was gonna tell you yesterday,” Ace mutters. 

Sabo blinks. Then it clicks, and he swallows. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Ace’s stare is hard. “Oh.”

“Just come here,” Cavendish sighs. “I’ll throw you a party. You can even stay til midnight, if you wanna watch the countdown parade on TV again.”

“Or we can go see it in person this time,” Nojiko says.

“If they have one,” Lami notes. “That’s questionable at this point.”

“I think they will.” Kuina shrugs as all eyes land on her. “I think everyone needs a distraction, right now.”

-

Ace offers to drive him back to Garp’s.

Well, he doesn’t really offer.

“You cut your hair,” he notes. The radio is off. The only noise is his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

Sabo looks out the window. “Yeah.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“Something came up.”

“And you couldn’t tell me.”

“Sorry. It was urgent.”

Ace’s fingers stop tapping. “Where’d you go?”

“A friend’s,” he settles. 

The silence hangs thick for a couple seconds. “Which friend?”

He only has a moment, so he just spits out the first name that comes to mind. “Koala.” She’d back him up, anyhow. And they were close in age. That was a safe option.

“They okay?”

“She’s . . fine, now.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Ace’s earlier words make him self-conscious, and he stops halfway through. “Sorry. It was just a lot to deal with.”

“You didn’t have to run out on me. I could’ve taken you.”

_ Oh no, please don’t mention the window, please please please please.  _

“I . . .” Ace sighs, drawn-out and weary. “At least respond next time. I was worried.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“I didn’t even know you had other friends,” he presses on. Sabo moves his gaze back out the window.

“Some.”

“There six of them?”

His eyes widen, and for one moment, the words echo sharply in his mind. Then he spins in his seat, glaring at Ace. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ace quirks a brow, eyes still on the road. “That was kinda defensive.”

“What, like I wouldn’t get the hint? The seven names got released  _ just _ last night. What are you trying to  _ say _ , Ace?”

He takes his eyes off the road as they roll up to a stop sign, holding Sabo’s gaze. “Am I wrong?”

_ No. _ “Yes!” he stresses, daring to move closer. “You’re wrong. I don’t know what led you to think  _ that _ , but please, think of something else.”

The car pulls forward. “Okay. Sorry.”

Sabo huffs and turns to face the window again, arms crossing. “Seriously. That’s a pretty big assumption. And  _ completely _ unfounded.”

“Not completely,” Ace says lightly. His fingers start tapping again. He changes topics. “You know, me and Luffy had another caretaker, someone who watched us while Garp was busy. She was with us for about, oh, four years ago?”

Sabo waits, for Ace doesn’t continue. “You get too old or something?”

“She died.” The blunt way he says it makes Sabo shudder. “The day before, there was a shooting at a mosque. There was never a named suspect, but it was thought that the son of a high-ranked government official did it. The next day, the boy’s father was killed in his office across the street. His son was, too, in the same building. They knew The Revs did it, and they had the same mosque surrounded not long after the shooting, because they were hiding out in it. 

But law enforcement aren’t allowed into places of worship while a service is going on, and they were still in memorial for the victims from the day before. It continued for two straight days, and by the time it ended, an explosion brought the government building across the street down. By the time the air cleared, no one was inside the mosque but the mourners, and they had nothing to say about hiding terrorists who had sympathized with them.

Dadan was out getting groceries. She got caught by shrapnel, right in the head. Died before they could drag her to a hospital. Luffy had to see it on the news before we knew.”

Sabo closes his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He remembered that day, too. It was chaotic and crazy, it was a last-minute decision, but they had gathered evidence it was the kid, and  _ of course _ he wasn’t gonna be convicted. And of course his father wouldn’t do anything about it, either. 

The Imam of that particular mosque hadn’t been happy to refuge them, but both his daughters had been victims of the attack the previous day, so he did nothing to stop them from staying, either. The service continued throughout the night, and Sabo remembers sleeping only for a few hours at a time, too high-strung for the most part, and on lookout the rest of the time.

They’d thought about digging a path, but Dragon had denied. Not in a religious building.

Dressing like the mourners had also been suggested, but Dragon denied it, saying it would be disrespectful.

In the end, taking out the building had been a last resort. It was enough of a distraction to get away, but that was it.

And of course he knew about the casualties. There hadn’t been a lot, but there’d been a handful, and it  _ pained _ him to learn it.

It hurt now. A lot.

“Yeah.” Ace finally pulls onto Garp’s driveway. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot where i broke this up and tried to make it 3k longer but.. meh. pt2 in a few weeks maybe, sometime before the month is over. 
> 
> tumblr @cheswirls, sometimes i post writing snippets there b4 they get here


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO in my rush last time i completely forgot to add the work skin. i went back and did it uh.. sometime between now and then, so some of you might've already seen the change. if you haven't, the texts are color coded now, like in ch 1. 
> 
> tw for torture, its brief but its there. starts at 'sabo sets his hands on robin's shoulders' and ends on 'that's an interesting method'.

Day 217

  
  


On the first, Lami drives him over to Cavendish’s. She pulls up and simply revs her engine to alert Sabo she was there -that’s all she really needed to do, if he was being honest- and he sits in her plush leather-backed seat, slightly cramped from the narrowness.

“Nice jacket,” she notes, pulling back out.

“Oh, yeah.” He glances down at it. “Ace, uh, he gave it to me.”

“For Christmas?”

“Mhmm.”

“That was nice.”

“Yeah.”

She waits for a few moments before speaking again. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but um, is everything okay between you two?”

His reply is automatic. “Sort of-” But then he stops, looks at Lami out of the corner of his eye. She has her eyes on the road, but her brows are pinched. And he finds, suddenly, that he can’t lie to her.

“No,” he sighs. “Not really.”

“You should fix it,” comes her quick reply. “It’s his birthday tonight.”

“Yeah.” He should. “I should.”

His phone beeps and he blinks down at it, taking a moment to stare before unlocking it.

Ace’s name pops up.

**[ 6:44 ] ** where are u?

Lami grunts. “That him? Tell him to hurry. Nojiko made cupcakes.”

He glances up. “How do you know?”

She points out the window. “That’s her walking in. See the tray?”

Oh. And from the looks of it, that looked like tangerine icing, too. He hums.

**[ 6:45 ] ** at the party

**[ 6:45 ] ** lami picked me up

**[ 6:45 ] ** oh

Sabo pockets his phone as he climbs out. He hadn’t been expecting Ace to go all the way to Garp’s to get him, but apparently the other thought differently. 

“He’ll be here in an hour,” he tells Lami as she turns to look at him, holding the door to the flower shop open. She blinks, then catches on to the implications and smirks. He rolls his eyes as he walks through.

There  _ is _ tangerine icing on the cupcakes, Sabo finds, as he nicks one from the container on the counter. It’s really good. There’s also a new year’s parade going on, as Kuina had thought, and the TV is tuned to it, on a low volume.

Nojiko passes by him as he’s throwing the wrapper and does a double-take, glancing from him to the container, then purses her lips. Sabo smiles sheepishly, but that’s not enough to get out of it, so he finds himself sat down in front one of the plush chairs in the main room, letting Nojiko try and braid his shorter hair. Nami does it all the time to her friend Sanji, she tells him, and she’s always wanted to try it. Sabo doesn’t know how many times she tries, but Kuina comes over at one point and tells her it was good, so she stops herself from undoing it and Sabo resists the urge to unbraid it himself. For the moment.

Ace’s car pulls up and Cavendish tosses everyone confetti poppers and then takes a seat far too close to the door. When Ace walks in, he’s immediately assaulted by a storm of green and purple, and the first person he glares at is Cavendish, right down his line of sight.

“Wow, who would’ve guessed.”

“Yeah, love you too!” Cavendish says, standing. “Happy birthday.”

Everyone echoes the statement. Ace rubs his neck, a blush gathering on his face. “Thanks,” he mutters.

They sit around and play games, and have cupcakes, and then order pizza and eat more cupcakes, and laugh at all the parade floats, and it’s easily one of the best nights of Sabo’s life. Ace opens his presents, and it’s a combination of some of the most thoughtful and the most stupid things Sabo’s ever seen. 

“Where’s your gift?” Lami asks him, after Ace is gathering the wrapping paper he’d tossed around the room. 

He gives her a half-wave. “Later.”

“Fine,” she sighs, drawing the words out.

Later, as the parade finishes and the crowd begins to swell in the city’s center, Sabo pauses in his conversation with Nojiko, watching as Ace stands, tells the room he needed some air, and escapes out onto the balcony.

He hesitates.

On one hand, being alone with Ace was dangerous right now. He already had suspicions, and they weren’t unfounded, and he felt like even talking with him was adding fuel to the fire.

On the other hand . . .

He stands up.

Ace is sitting against the brick of the building, forearms on his knees. He’s looking out at the sky, but glances over as the screen door opens and Sabo comes out. 

He pauses for a moment, but it didn’t seem like he ducked out for air in fear of a nervous breakdown, so he lets the door slide closed and takes a seat beside him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He breathes out, turns back to the sky. “Come to give me my gift?”

“I thought about it.”

Ace chuckles. “You don’t have to. You being here is . . is enough.” He swallows. “I mean that.”

“Oh.” That was unexpected. He hesitates, leans his head back against the wall. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

They go a minute or so without speaking, just existing next to each other. Then, Ace tips his head to look at him. “I do wanna see it, though.”

“Uh, well.” He lifts his head from the wall. “It’s not really physical. Well, I guess it is, but it’s not really tangible? Well, I guess it is . .”

Ace blinks, then laughs a little. “You’re . . not really making sense.”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I know. I’ll just . .” He blinks. “Close your eyes?”

Ace smiles, his brows scrunched, but complies. “Okay . . ?”

Sabo takes a deep breath, in and out, then takes his back off the wall, leaning forward. He pauses, closes his eyes, then opens them, moving forward the rest of the way.

But Ace’s eyes have already opened.

Sabo pauses, a breath away from Ace’s face, and watches as his grey eyes widen just a little, taking everything in. 

_ Dadan was out getting groceries. _

He blinks.

_ Luffy had to see it on the news. _

His mouth, opened just a little, closes firmly. He hesitates again, but his thoughts are still stuck on last night, and after another second, he finds himself leaning back.

“Nevermind,” he mumbles. “I forgot it.”

Before he realizes it, Ace’s hand is tangled in the ends of his hair, right where it had fallen out of the braid. He pulls him all the way back to where he’d been and holds him there, staring at him, eyes searching his face. Sabo freezes, not even breathing, but Ace must find what he’d been looking for, because, very slowly, he releases Sabo. He pulls back a little. He says, “If you’re sure,” really quietly, and leaves it at that.

The next moment the door is opening. Sabo sharply ducks his head, staring at concrete. “You two!” Lami says. “The countdown is starting, come on!”

Ace jumps up and hurries to the door. They both look back.

“I’ll uh. I’ll be right there,” Sabo says, waving them off. Someone calls for them and they both step inside, and the door closes a moment later.

He breathes out a sigh, holding his face in both hands.

Well.

-

Day 218

  
  


Ace drives him, under protest, all the way back to Garp’s.

They don’t talk. Not really. Every conversation either one of them tries to start peters out quickly. 

Sabo thinks about Dadan and the nights he spent curled up on the ground at the mosque, too terrified to even close his eyes. 

They pull into the driveway and Sabo unclicks his seatbelt, but he’s inviting Ace in in the next second. 

“Okay.” The car is shut off and they both open their doors.

Sabo takes Ace’s arm once they’re inside and steers him toward his room, then releases him just inside. “Give me a second,” he mumbles, walking over to his closet. He flicks on the light and ducks just inside, facing the empty bookshelf. 

He breathes, in and out, but it’s so quiet in the house right now and he knows he’s way too loud, and that notion makes his heart race  _ even more _ and he can’t calm his thoughts down, and he can’t do it.

He closes his eyes and suddenly he’s way too tired, leaning forward. He can’t do it.

There’s a faint call of his name, he thinks, and then all too soon Ace is saying his name right beside him and he jerks his head up but it hits one of the shelves and he sags down again with a grunt, a hand flying to his skull.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, alright.” He drops his hand, opens his eyes. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m just tired, I guess.” He straightens out, chances a glance over at Ace. 

Ace just stares at him, then he reaches out, slips a few fingers under the braid to feel for a knot. When he doesn’t find one, he moves his hand to Sabo’s arm and guides him out of the closet, over to his bed. “If you’re tired, you should just sleep.”

Sabo bites down on his lip. “Yeah, alright.” He sits down on the mattress, but he’s still holding Ace’s arm, and the next moment he’s tugging him down as well, so they’re both sat side-by-side.

He waits a couple moments. Ace stares at him. Then he just starts talking.

“My house burned down,” he blurts out. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Oh.” Ace swallows, caught off-guard.

“It was in the news.”

“Last summer? Is that what . . ?”

He shakes his head. It would be a nice thing to run with, that he moved in with Garp because of it, but there were too many technicalities to work out, and he was tired. He was tired of lying, most of all. He wanted to tell the truth.

“Six years ago. In November.”

“Nov-” Ace stops, brows furrowing. “Wait. But that was-”

“When the Outlook estate burned down,” Sabo finishes. 

“They only had one son,” Ace says, after a few moments of silence, very quietly. “He died in the fire.” Right after saying those words, his eyes widen. “Wait, is that how you got-”

“No,” Sabo interjects, rubbing one of the burn scars through his shirt. “It’s not.” He takes a deep breath in. “They did have another son. But . . they disowned him prior to the incident. Years earlier, actually. So of course the news didn’t mention anything.”

He’s silent for another long minute, and a stuttering intake precedes his next set of words.

“They were  _ terrible _ people. But still, they were my family, at one point.” He shrugs. “That night was liberating. It wasn’t until the next day that I felt sad. And the next day. And the next. And the next. And I guess, really, I’ve never  _ stopped _ feeling sad, feeling horrible, every time I think about it all.” He shrugs again. “I try not to think about it much anymore.”

“Liberating . . . that’s an interesting word choice.”

_ Was that the wrong thing to say?  _ “Was that the wrong thing to say?” he echoes aloud, this time with more confidence, instead of a panicked question. “I  _ hated _ them. They were so bad to me. Leaving was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. I still don’t think it was  _ wrong _ that I felt that way. I just think . . . even though I hated them, somewhere deep down, they were still my family. It hurt to lose them.”

Ace scoots a little closer. “Where did you go, after?” he asks quietly.

“I moved in with Koala.” 

“Oh. So . . it’s Koala Triste?”

“No.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strangled. “Marnier. I chose Triste for myself, when I could.”

“So . . she’s not your girlfriend?”

“Koala?” This time he  _ does _ laugh. “No, no! She’s like my sister. Actually . .” He fumbles on his next words, and he has to take a steadying breath before he can get them out. “It wasn’t just her. It was . . I mean, uh . .” He smiles, just a little bit. “Dragon took us in.”

Ace sits up straighter. “No way.  _ That’s _ how you know Luffy’s dad?”

“Yeah. For almost . . fifteen years, now. Both of them.”

“And she’s the one you were with the other day?”

He pauses. “Yeah.” Well, not technically a lie. He was.

“Do you . . think I could meet her?”

He pauses again, for longer this time. “That would be up to her,” he finally says. “I can ask.”

Ace nods. “Also, well this is gonna sound weird, but Luffy can’t even  _ remember _ Dragon, and while one part of me knows he won’t care either way, another part thinks he should  _ really _ have a chance to meet him and. Um. Do you . . know where he is?”

That sobers him up real quick. Just the last part. He turns back to the window, casts a glance out it. “No.”

“I really wish I did.”

-

Day 222

  
  


Law opens the door, takes one look at Sabo’s face, hums, then walks back into the house, leaving the door open for him. “Lami’s upstairs,” he calls. “You can wait inside.”

By the time Sabo has made his way to the living room, Law is sprawled over one of the couches, a book open over his face. He looks like he’s been there all day. It’s become a familiar sight, actually. He’d already seen the medical student in this exact situation four times over the winter break.

Four times.

Over the break.

He was starting to get concerned.

Instead of sitting, Sabo leans his elbows over the back of the one occupied couch, then tips forward to rest his chin in his hands. “Law. Do you have any friends?”

“I have this book,” is Law’s reply.

Sabo goes mentally blank for a solid moment. “Besides that book.”

“ . . . I have more books on my bookshelf.”

Sabo’s eyes deadpan. “You know what? Forget I asked.”

“Got it.” Law flips a page in the book. Sabo wonders if he ever stopped reading throughout their little conversation. Probably not.

“He  _ does _ have friends,” stresses Lami from over their heads as she hurries down the staircase. She’d paused to deliver this stinging rhetoric, leaning over the railing, and Sabo catches her gaze as it turns from sharp annoyance to exasperated fondness. “Sugar and Fai are your friends, right?”

“They’re more like annoyances,” Law mutters. Lami scoffs, scooting to stand beside Sabo.

“What about Monet?”

“An even bigger annoyance.”

“Are all your friends girls?” Sabo asks.

This question triggers the first legitimate response from Law so far. He visibly pauses in his reading, brows quirked up, and moves the book down so his face is visible. “Well. You know what they say about guys with only female friends, Sabo-ya.”

Oh. That was a social cue, he guesses. He tries to use logic, but after a moment, his face scrunches. “No, I don’t.”

Law lets out a huff of laughter, his brows pinching. He moves the book back to cover his face. “Good talk.”

Sabo looks to Lami, but she only rolls her eyes. “ _ Slow _ ,” she mouths, and Sabo would take offense, but her phone dings and she’s tugging him towards the door before he can bother. “Kuina’s here. We’re out.”

Law hums, and that’s his only response before the door is shut.

“Does he even eat?” Sabo asks as Lami releases him. She sighs and punches him in the arm, though it’s not very hard.

“Yes. I make sure of it.”

“What about Rocinante?”

“If I let Cora cook he would  _ burn _ the house down,” is her reply. Kuina honks at them from her car. 

-

Day 223

  
  


Ace walks in to Sabo trying this lounge thing on the couch. The TV was off, because he’d gotten tired of hearing the same thing over and over, and with the quiet, he felt his eyes slipping shut. It was very easy to fall asleep when Ace wasn’t there, so when the door opens, his head raises from the couch, and when he makes out a familiar mop of messy hair, he sits up, completely awake. 

“Koala Marnier,” Ace says, coming to sit beside him. “Is this her?”

Sabo blinks, and when he glances down at Ace’s phone, feels whatever notion he had of being tired completely dissipate. His jaw drops a little.

There was a picture of Koala at a shooting range, a pretty long gun in one hand and a muffler around her neck grasped in another. She was wearing a tiger-patterned shirt, because that was just her. Reiju stood behind her, at the next aisle, smiling at the back of her head. ‘ _ Ms. Future-law-enforcement can’t beat me today! Maybe next time tho’ _ was the caption, and she had Reiju tagged. Sabo knows his mouth is opened at this point, and sharply closes it. “Uh. Hm. Yeah, that’s her.”

Ace bobs his head, moving his phone away and scrolling down. “Interesting hobby. She learn that from Dragon?”

“Uh. No.” Damn, this was only getting more awkward. “She picked it up on her own. I guess he didn’t disapprove the idea, either.”

“So one shootout kid and another knife thrower and curtain rod weilder kid. I see, I see.”

The look on Sabo’s face is indistinguishable, but he knows somewhere in there there’s a raw form of panic because  _ where was this going. _ Where.

“Is this another friend?” Ace tips the phone back to him and Sabo could see it was a post Koala had liked-

He nearly chokes.

And one of him. A drawing of him, to be precise. A sketched headshot of him with his black hood drawn up. Betty had done it, because that was her picture by the user handle. ‘ _ Had a good model the other day’ _ was the caption. 

“Yeah. Another friend,” he forces out. Ace scrolls down a couple posts. It was another drawing, this time of Betty’s pistols. ‘ _ Saw my babies for the first time in forever so I had to draw them’. _ Huh. That was. Huh.

“And now you know who taught Koala. Somewhat. Mostly. I did say she picked it up on her own. Right? I did say that.”

Ace shrugs. “Koala has your haircut. Or do you have hers?”

“It happened the same day,” Sabo squeaks out. “I guess technically I was second.”

God, he was so damn  _ stupid.  _ Why would he give out her  _ real _ last name? At least, why didn’t he say it thicker, or completely incomprehensible, better yet, so that this  _ wouldn’t be happening _ .

“She’s cute,” Ace muses.

“She’s also has a girlfriend,” Sabo points out, still finding it hard to breathe.

“Yeah, I saw.” Ace smirks, still looking at his phone. “That explains how you know Sanji’s sister.”

“Where are you going with this,” Sabo finally asks, forgetting to be nervous for a split second.

In a flash, Ace’s expression completely shifts. He sets his phone, screen down, on his leg, then leans forward.

“Your friend is Tiger, right? You know which Tiger I’m talking about, right?”

Sabo breathes in sharply, and the next time he speaks, he forgets to be afraid.

-

Day 226

  
  


He could’ve handled that better.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Sabo.” Koala bangs her fist against the table. “Really? Really??”

He’d pretty much freaked, gotten angry at Ace for accusing him of that again, and kicked him out. Like, how stupid, right? It wasn’t like he didn’t have a key. He could always come right back in.

But he didn’t. He’d climbed back into his car and fucked right off. Of course, that wasn’t what had Koala so pissed.

“I know, I’m stupid, I screwed up,” he laments to her.

She jabs a finger at his face. “I’m considering deleting my  _ whole _ Instagram, except I’m pretty sure that would cause  _ more _ suspicion than it’s already  _ created! _ ”

“Please forgive me. I’ll buy you another smoothie.”

She lifts her half-drank one up and sucks a long sip out of the straw, sending him a death glare the entire time. “I’ll  _ think _ about forgiving you. Another smoothie won’t cut it.”

Her eyes narrow. “If you knew he was figuring things out, why didn’t you just stay away from him?”

“It . .” he throws his hands in the air. “It’s hard, okay? It’s hard with Ace. I  _ know  _ I should, believe me, but I can’t. Christ, Koala, the other night I told him about my parents’ house burning down.”

She chokes on her drink, slamming it down on the table. “You what?” she hisses. “You didn’t tell him you did it, did you?”

“ _ No _ , Koala, I didn’t add arsonist to the long list of suspicions he already has!”

“You’re an idiot,” she grounds out. “When do you see him again? Never?”

“Tomorrow.”

She face-palms. More like face-smacks. Just closes her eyes and, still looking towards him, raises the hand not holding her smoothie and slaps hard. Her lips curl up right after and Sabo winces.

“Talk to Robin,” she tells him. “ _ Please. _ ”

“Yeah, sure.” He sinks further into his seat. “That’s actually not a bad idea. I’ll do that.” Tomorrow, he decides, after he’s done at Cavendish’s. That shouldn’t be too late to call her.

Koala lifts the straw to her mouth again and sucks on air. Her frown deepens. “And I want another one of these.”

-

Day 227

  
  


Sabo tries to text Ace throughout the next day, but all he gets in turn are one-worded replies to select questions. It was like Koala’s words didn’t affect him at all now that he was out of her direct line of sight. He sighs, tossing his phone to the end of his bed. What was he _doing._ _Why_ was he doing, more like.

He could try being mad, too. Ace had taken the private information he’d shared with him and used it to look up the friend he’d promised to maybe introduce him to, then accused said friend of being a terrorist. (Not that that last wasn’t valid, and completely spot on, too, codename and all, but STILL.)

It wasn’t like anything was unfounded, and he couldn’t really stay  _ mad _ at Ace. The other sure could at him, but it had never really worked the other way. Ace was a hard person to be mad at. Unless you were Koala, and didn’t know him, and were hating him purely on the principle that he could get you thrown in jail.

Or, under the media bus. Which would really lead to the former, actually, who was he kidding?

Robin had promised to meet him later that night, thank God. He really could use some actual advice, and coming from her, it was bound to be helpful as well. He wasn’t about to tell Koala her advice wasn’t helpful, though. He’d poke that bear another day.

For now, he was sat at the counter, on a stool beside Cavendish. The flower shop was still open, and some sort of sale was going on, so there were various people perusing the selections. Sabo couldn’t care less, trying to stay out of the way, but he’d give Cavendish the company since he asked for it.

He mostly watched, as his friend went back and forth, to wrap the -mostly single- flowers in paper, and then take them to the register on Sabo’s other side. He looked up at various customers as he felt their gaze, and all of them turned away sharply, so he assumes they were looking at his scar. 

“Will you grab me seeds for this one?” Cavendish mutters, and Sabo glances up to the yellow flower he’s pointing at. “Should be bottom shelf, second or third one over.” 

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, so he bobs his head and walks past the bouquet table to the shelf on the wall. It’s the third one on the bottom, because the picture matches the flower. There are maybe like . . five seeds. He flips it over and reads the price out of curiosity on the way back to the register, and his eyes bulge.

“This place is expensive,” he mumbles, when that particular customer was nearly out the door. Cavendish hums and takes a seat again, shrugging.

“I guess. Flowers aren’t cheap.”

They pass the next hour the same way, with Cavendish ringing up customers and Sabo helping with menial tasks when he could. He didn’t realize the shop stayed this busy when it was open. “Doesn’t your sister help?” he asks at one point.

“She’s in school, so only sometimes.”

The shop is finally emptied out five minutes before closing, and Cavendish goes ahead and flips the welcome sign over. Sabo turns off the light from the switch in the corner of the room, and when he walks back to the front, Cavendish is leaning against the counter, eyeing him. “What?” he asks.

“Do you want a job here?” he asks very suddenly.

“Huh?” It takes a second for him to process the words. “A . . wait what?” He waves the blonde off. “You don’t want me working here. I know nothing about flowers.”

He shrugs. “You could run the register for me.”

“I know nothing about that either.”

“You’ve . . never . . .” Cavendish blinks, then laughs slightly, the motion shaking his shoulders. “It’s not hard. You just have to count change.”

“ . . . Right.”

“Oh my god! Sabo, you can’t be that worthless.”

He crosses his arms. “I have . . skills in other areas.”

“Fine, fine.” Cavendish waves him off. “I’m not gonna breathe down your neck about it. Just, if you feel like it, the offer’s open.”

“Yeah.” He sags, letting his arms fall back to his side. “Thanks, I guess.”

There’s a bang on the door when a body has failed to open it, and when they look up, they see Lami pressed against the glass, glaring at them. “ _ Unlock,” _ she mouths, and Cavendish ambles over, smirking as her frown grows larger the longer he takes.

When he finally flips the lock, Lami spills into the shop, nearly tripping over her feet. “Thanks, really appreciate that,” she mutters, straightening out.

“Where’s the movie?” Cavendish asks, leaning back against the door.

“Ace said it was playing on TV. You can record it, right?” He nods a yes and she gives him a thumbs-up in return. “Great. I’ll go turn it on.”

She makes toward the staircase, grabbing Sabo’s arm as she passes. He makes a surprised noise, but let’s her lead him up. Cavendish turns as someone knocks on the door, but Sabo can’t make out who it is before he’s on the second story.

Lami releases him and goes to switch on the TV. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen any Star Wars movie. That’s a crime.”

“Uh.” He shrugs. “Are they good, then?”

“Law will tell you Star Trek is better, but Law has shit taste.”

“Noted.”

Kuina bursts through the door, and when she sees the screen is on, throws both arms in the air. “Episode seven!” she shouts, running forward to jack the remote from Lami, who immediately protests. “Cool it, you’re gonna keep the volume low, everyone knows it.” She raises the remote over her head as Lami reaches for it.

“I like having working ears!” Lami argues.

Kuina sticks her tongue out, still pressing the volume up button. “Movies are made to be loud! Get over it.”

“I see the party’s here,” Nojiko mutters, stepping through the doorway. She waves at Sabo, slipping off her shoes, and Cavendish comes in behind her. “Hey!” she snaps. “You two, cool it. We gotta pick a designated person to explain stuff to Sabo so he’s not completely lost.”

“And you haven’t seen  _ any _ of them?” Kuina asks, finally setting the remote on top of the TV. Lami slumps over in defeat, walking over to throw herself on one of the couches. Sabo shakes his head and she bobs hers for a minute. “That’s sad.”

Lami trips her as she walks by. “You can’t just say that!”

Kuina barely catches herself on the table, and after a moment, flops down on the couch on top of Lami. “Well I just did!”

Lami screams and dissolves into laughter immediately. “Hey! Get off!”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The door opens once more and Sabo turns to see it’s Ace walking through, tossing his bag by the wall. He does his best to smile, offers a little wave, but Ace’s expression is neutral, and he turns away after a moment without acknowledging him.

Nojiko pulls on his arm as he walks past the couch she’s occupying. “I’m the designated explainer, apparently. Take a seat.”

He’s maybe read a handful of science fiction in his entire lifetime, and he can’t remember what any of them were about, so the movie experience was definitely different. The effects are amazing. The concept -literally a giant war that spans the entirety of space- is amazing. The actors are great -Lami keeps swooning over Rebecca Riku, who plays the lead, so he at least knows one of their names. He doesn’t understand most of plot, but the humor is straightforward enough that he can laugh, and he admires the fight choreography. 

He lies longwise on the couch, head between Nojiko’s legs as she leans against the armrest and braids his hair and softly explains to him who Luke Skywalker was and what the Sith were about and the CGI technology that made a talking orange alien with big glasses possible.

By the time the ending comes up, he feels the emotion, and despite there being no indication, he knows it’s Luke in the last scene. 

Before the credits can roll, all of a sudden, a mystified “what the fuck” comes from Kuina, and Sabo glances over to see her dropping her phone and striding over to the remote. Before anyone can protest, she’s changed the channel, and the high volume transfers over to the reporter’s voice, making them all wince.

And then Sabo’s entire world stops.

Cavendish gets the lights and they all sit there, the TV blaring about a breaking news report, about how the identity of wyvern, one  _ Dragon Monkey _ , and the  _ head _ of The Revolutionaries had just been discovered.

Nojiko slides off the couch, moving closer to the screen. “Isn’t. Isn’t that . .”

There’s movement behind him, and Sabo very slowly turns his head, still in a state of shock, to see Ace stumbling to his feet, face aghast. 

“I’m gonna go get Luffy,” he stammers out, eyes flicking to his phone. He moves to the door before anyone can protest.

“Wait -Ace,” Sabo says, and Ace’s eyes turn to him for a moment, and the disbelief morphs into distrust very quickly, and then he’s out the door and Sabo’s sitting there, staring at where he used to be.

“That’s right,” Lami finally says. “Monkey is Luffy’s family name, huh. That’s . . messed up.” She shakes her head.

Sabo can barely hear anything, like he’s underwater. That was it. That was the definite last straw. Ace was never going to go anywhere near him  _ ever _ again.

His phone ringing jerks him into the present. He answers without looking to see who it is, distracted. “Yeah, hello?”

“Do you  _ see _ -”

His breathing stammers and he hangs up on Koala, her voice far too loud and his mind far too frazzled. Yeah. He saw. He was still seeing, because they were still talking about it, and the volume was still impossibly loud.

He sits there, on the corner of the couch, for the entirety of the report, not knowing what else to do.

-

Day 230

In wake of the sudden news, Sabo doesn’t see Robin that night.

But he does get a call from her two days later.

He’s still trying to figure out what to do without Ace. Because it had been five months since they had become friends -friends, Sabo thinks, is a hard word; maybe something a little less, something not quite so personal- and five months was a long time to get used to seeing the same person over and over and over again. And now that it was all done, he can’t help but wallow. He’d been right from the very beginning. Giving it a shot was all sorts of messed up, and he  _ knew _ it wouldn’t work out, and yet he tried to do it anyway, and now look where that got him.

He hadn’t seen anyone besides Garp since that night. And even then, he’d seen Garp’s face  _ once _ . He kept the TV off. He barely remembered to plug his phone in when the battery was low, and even then it usually took until it finally died for him to bother. He just kinda sat in the backyard, in the cold, or lied on his bed and slept, or tried to read a book.

Robin calls and he stares at the caller ID until the ringing stops.

She calls again immediately.

“Hi,” he mumbles. 

“ _ Triste. _ ” Her voice is crisp and clear, as always. “ _ I have news. _ ”

He sighs. “It’s bad news, huh?”

_ “It’s certainly not good news. _ ” She pauses for a moment. “ _ Though, how you interpret it is up to you.” _

That catches his attention. “Okay.”

“ _ There’s a former street gang causing a lot of trouble in the capital. _ ”

“That’s not really my problem.”

“ _ They’re claiming to be The Revolutionaries. _ ”

His brows raise nearly to his hairline. “ _ What?” _ he breathes. “Wh-Why?”

“ _ I don’t have that answer yet. The government is counting on you to figure that out. _ ”

It clicks, then. “You’re not speaking as my friend.”

“ _ No. This is Robin Nico, your handler. You’re fifth on my list to call, and the seventh is going to be tricky, so I’m keeping this short. Investigate this group, determine their goals and members, and then eliminate them. Use whatever resources you need. Don’t do any damage to the city. Once your task is confirmed done, the breach in security leaking your information to the public will be taken care of. Oh, one more thing. You still can’t contact Dragon. None of you can. _ ”

“That’s ridiculous,” is Sabo’s first response. “He’s our leader. You can’t put us up to a task without him.”

“ _ I didn’t say he wouldn’t be involved. Just that the six of you couldn’t directly reach out to him. I have to go now. I’ll see you soon, Sabo. _ ”

She hangs up before he can respond, and he drops his phone with a grimace, rising to his feet. 

He flops onto a couch in the living room and turns on the TV, flipping to a random news station. He turns through several channels over the next hour, all spanning the same ‘Return of The Revolutionaries’ titles that made his blood boil.

These people were ridiculous. So they smashed a few windows and threatened people, set some fires and fired a few rounds. That was still petty gang shit. They didn’t act like The Revolutionaries at all.

But they were promoting themselves, and with everything going on lately, the media had jumped at the chance to title the actions as a return of the disbanded terrorist group. This wasn’t going to be hard. This wasn’t even worth their time. And yet the government had made such a big deal about it. This was the type of shit they had to do for their amnesty?

He hears his phone ringing from the other room and begrudgingly gets up. He answers without checking who it was, and Ivankov’s voice is the one to greet him.

_ “We’re meeting at the club. It’s closed, but the back door is unlocked.” _

“When?”

_ “Now. Start heading over.” _

Guess they were starting right away. Not like he had anything better to do.

-

Sabo forgets about the entrance being locked and yanks on it as hard as he can. When it doesn’t budge, he releases the handle and kicks the door in frustration. Then he huffs and mutters an apology to the air, not wanting to imagine Iva’s face should she find out.

He yanks the back door open with much more satisfying results, and is immediately met with a few faces sharing his same expression. Each of them turn back to their tasks, not even sparing him a greeting, and he takes care to make sure the door is shut properly before pulling up a chair to their makeshift circle.

“Your hair is gross,” Inazuma notes, offhandedly, casting him a glance. Sabo shrugs in response.

The door opens once more and Karasu walks through, positively steaming. “Who the  _ fuck _ said Nico was on our side? Huh?”

“I did,” Koala mutters. 

“Well you were  _ wrong _ .”

“Yeah, I got that.” She sinks further into her seat. “I fucking got it, okay?”

Karasu sits on the ground beside Ivankov’s chair and pulls out a laptop. “What’s the plan, Betty?”

“They have a sharpshooter, Scarecrow is what he goes by,” she answers. “We find him, at least his identity, and we get a solid lead.”

“We should head to Point C, stay there for a bit,” Ivankov speaks up. “Most of our stuff is there from last time, and it’s more secure than this place. Less people know about it.”

“I’m game,” Sabo voices. “What-” 

He cuts himself off when a knock sounds on the door.

Since all six of them are there, everyone sharply turns to face the door, waiting. In another couple moments, it begins to open, and both Koala and Inazuma rise in a crouch.

It opens and closes quickly, and Robin Nico slips through, turning fluidly once it was locked with her hands raised. “Hello.”

“What the fuck,” Ivankov says. “So when you said ‘see you soon’, you  _ literally _ meant it.”

“How did you find this place? Or, how did you know we were here?” Koala asks.

“She’s Cipher Pol, K, she knows her stuff,” Betty retorts. 

Sabo leans over the back of his chair, brows raised. “Robin, what are you doing?”

“If the government has allowed the information leaks in the first place, there’s no way to guarantee that they stop occurring at all,” she says, and immediately, everyone shuts up and glares at her. She twitches her raised hands. “If I’m granted permission, I’d like to help you. I wasn’t messing around when I said I was on your side. And I might have an idea of how you get out of this without public backlash.”

“Why should we believe you?” Koala says.

“It’s six on one,” Robin counters. “If you don’t like my proposal, there’s a high chance I won’t walk out of here alive.”

It’s silent for a good minute. Then, the least expected person speaks up.

“Let’s hear it.” Karasu stands, computer still sitting on the floor, and his arms crossed. “Convince us.”

-

Ace bursts through his grandfather’s front door, stomps two feet into the house and yells. “Sabo!” he calls out, voice ringing through the room. The wind hits his back and he kicks the door shut. “Sabo!” he shouts again, rounding the couches. He yanks the bedroom door open and is met with black and stillness.

Gritting his teeth, he backtracks and goes into the kitchen, heading for the back door, when the sight of a note on the counter makes him pause. He eyes it for a good few seconds, then snatches it up, reading it over and narrowing his eyes the further he goes.

_ Garp. _

_ I’m leaving for a bit. Got some things to take care of for your boss, or bosses, y’know. The works. I don’t know how long I’ll be, or if I’ll be back at all. You know how it is. _

_ Apparently this mock-Revs group is concerning to them, enough to send the real deals out to deal with it. And you thought an explosion in an abandoned building was bad. By the end of the week, you can add another large handful of homicides to my record, definitely. But they’re bad people this time, so it’s nothing to be concerned over, right? _

_ Unless your friends the government were bad people, too. At least the ones we offed were. _

_ If Dragon is dead, I’ll never forgive you. If he’s not, and he comes back, I’ll never see you again. _

_ Take care, or don’t, not my problem. _

The door opens and Ace whips around, his glare not calming even if it’s Garp he’s faced with instead of the person he suspected it might be. “What is  _ this _ ?” he grounds out, shaking the paper. “So you were just housing a criminal?  _ That’s _ why you never told me? What the fuck?”

Garp’s expression becomes pinched, and he closes the back door behind him, grabbing the letter. He skims over it, grows slightly more panicky, and crumples the edge of it in his hand. “Oh.”

“I can’t  _ believe _ this,” Ace spits. He takes out of his phone. “Fuck this, seriously!”

Garp’s hand covers the phone screen and Ace jerks his head up, moving his phone away.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Garp says. “Not about any of this. It’s a matter of security.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“If you don’t, you’ll be putting a  _ lot _ of people’s lives at stake. Don’t do that, Ace. Please.”

Ace holds his stare for a good minute. Then reasoning takes over, and he sighs, shoves his phone away into a pocket. “Fine,” he grunts. 

He leaves with a slam to the front door that Garp can’t bother wincing at, reading over the rather nonchalant letter again. Things sure had taken a turn for the worse. His phone buzzes and he answers the call, then gets ready to head out himself.

His phone buzzes again later that night, and when he answers, it’s his grandson’s voice on the other end.

“Is Ace there?” Luffy asks. “He was supposed to be home already, but he’s not, and he’s not with any of his friends, and I’m hungry already!”

“No, he’s not. Did you call him?”

“He didn’t answer. Went straight to voicemail. Like five times. It’s like he’s disappeared.”

Garp stands up, growing pale. “Luffy. Sit tight, I’m heading over now.”

-

Day 233

  
  


“Lafitte, codename Scarecrow. His range is just under three miles. Former militant, dropped out over a decade ago. His lookout is Van Auger, the former record holder for furthest shot with a sniper rifle. He’s out of commission now.” Karasu points a finger to his eye. “Got this one sliced up pretty bad, can’t shoot anything anymore.”

“Lucky us,” Sabo mutters.

“Auger’s an original member of the gang, back when it was under Teach.” Robin crosses her arms. “I’m unsure if he’s leader now.”

“Who else was in it?” Inazuma asks, running a cloth over the blade of their sword for the nth time. Sabo wonders if it’s an intimidation tactic, but if it is, it’s not doing much. Plus, it was Robin, and Sabo has no doubts she could hold her own among them.

He’s still not with her all the way, but her argument was convincing. And, well, he supposes she’s never done anything to wrong them. And him personally, too, ever since he’d met her. 

“Jesus Burgess, Avalo Pizarro, Catarina Devon,” Robin names off, counting her fingers as she goes. 

“Got it,” Karasu replies, already typing.

“I’m surprised you’ve never heard of any of them. They were quite an infamous gang in the capital a few years back.”

“We never really paid attention to goings-on in the underworld,” Sabo tells her, shrugging. “Our goal’s always been higher.”

The front door opens and shuts with a bang, and a moment later, two sets of heavy footsteps enter their room.

“We have a problem,” Ivankov says gravely.

“They know who we are,” Betty elaborates. “All seven of us, what we can do, and even about Robin.”

-

Koala hacks on her drink as the current news report plays on the TV in the corner. Across from her, Reiju forgets the question she had just asked and reaches out in concern. Her eyes flit briefly to where Koala’s had been, and her lips purse.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Koala hisses, looking up to the screen again. It replays the shot, straight through the window of a five-story and into a person’s neck. When the view pans back out to the window, her eyes track it, following an unseeing path to a high building a couple blocks away. Her lips purse as she gauges the distance.

Had this gang ever done something like this before? It was almost like they were-

. . . mimicking them.  _ Her _ , specifically, but if they knew that much, then. Then.

“You okay?” Reiju asks. “That was a little much to see-” She breaks off as Koala stands up abruptly, her chair wrenching back. 

Her fist curled against the tabletop, she takes out her phone with her other hand, dialing a familiar number. “Sorry. I gotta go,” she mutters to Reiju. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Ivankov answers as soon as she’s out the door, already talking before Koala can speak. “ _ I’m guessing you saw it too? _ ”

-

Point C was where they had stashed all their stuff from the Rescue-Seal operation, so they had all the supplies at their ready. Inazuma goes from sharpening their sword to shoving it in the scabbard at their waist. Betty does the same with her twin pistols, then hurries to Ivankov’s side to stop her from grabbing explosives they  _ definitely _ didn’t need. Good thing their resident bomber was skilled enough in hand-to-hand to hold her own. 

Sabo tugs on a harness over his jacket to thrust his pipe through instead of digging for a new change of clothes, makes sure his shoes were tied, and then marches over to help Karasu shove equipment into his bag. After getting waved off, he grabs an empty duffel and throws some of Koala’s things into it, sure that she wouldn’t have taken anything of that sort to an outing with Reiju. 

Robin works around them, letting everyone move at a swift pace. When they’re all ready to head out, she offers her vehicle that could safely fit them all. Everyone agrees easily, and once she’s behind the wheel and Betty is contacting Koala, asks what else she can do to be of help. Betty tosses her cell to Inazuma as they roll out, a grin pulling on her lips.

“Be the inside operative the media is so insistent we have,” she says. “We don’t need interference. Tell the police to keep out of the shooter’s nest. Crow’s got the surrounding cams covered -we sure don’t want the media getting ahold of what’s going down. But just in case, tell the government to fuck off and let us do our job.”

Sabo rips a page from the rings of a binder and turns around in his seat next to Robin, twisting until he can see Betty properly. Robin nods, dialing a number on her phone with one hand. Sabo sets the page on the center console and gestures Betty forward, then jabs at the floor plans of a high-rise building. “Floor five, I think. They might be laying low, but my gut tells me they’ve already started heading down. The stairs alternate sides of the building, for security reasons. It’ll take them a minute to reach the main floor.”

“Perfect. Where do we go in?” Betty asks, reaching back at a tap on her shoulder to grab a pair of earbuds. 

“There are two entrances, and assuming they’re near the first floor when we get there, both is a safe bet. One’s at the front, here, and another is on the back side of the stairwell, here.” Sabo glances up in annoyance as a hand moves into his line of sight holding a pair of earbuds, and him and Betty look over to Ivankov as he takes them. She retracts her hands from covering the map, holding them up in defeat. Sabo turns back to the page and puts one earbud in his right ear -his good side. He glances over to see Robin finishing a call and hands her the other one, forgetting about the extra pair Karasu would have in lieu of their missing member. Robin takes it and puts it in quickly, no question, still focused on driving. Sabo glances out the front of the car as Betty mutters to herself, then turns back. “Two minutes, maybe.”

“No traffic and I can be there in less,” Robin replies. 

“You aren’t worried about running lights?” Inazuma pipes up.

Robin shrugs. “I can write it off. They know who I am.”

Betty hums. “I like her. Okay, plan.” She waves a hand at Sabo’s paper and he moves to deposit it back into his binder of that section of the capital, one head tipped in her direction to listen. “Koala’s definitely coming in through the front gate. I’m almost positive she’s weapon-less, but we’ll arrive before her either way. Sabo, you take her bag and stay near the front. I’ll stay with you, in case our sniper happens to have a short-range gun at hand. In theory, his partner should be useless now with firearms. We can’t count on anything else. On the same side of the building, in the back, Robin will pull in after letting me and Sabo out. Karasu, you work on disabling all the street cams. When you finish, follow Inazuma, Ivankov, and Robin in the back. Assuming our two targets have already reached the ground floor, you three take them from behind, try and disable one-eyed Auger.” She pauses for a breath. “Everyone tuned in?”

“No,” is the chorus she’s met with. She turns to Karasu, who pauses typing. 

“Channel four,” he mutters, picking up the last set and passing them off to Betty, nodding to Robin. Sabo blinks, takes them as everyone sets theirs in, and hands Robin an extra one, putting the other in his left ear. Right. Dragon wasn’t . . .

Right.

“Probably should have asked this before,” Betty mutters as Robin skids on a turn and slides to a very messy stop at the corner of a tall building. “Robin, can you hold your own?”

“Don’t worry about me,” is all Sabo hears before he’s picked up the duffel and slammed the passenger door shut, peeling off for the entrance with Betty not far behind.

“ _ Tiger should be here soon, assuming she’s not held up _ ,” Inazuma says, voice crackling in Sabo’s ears. He questions what this means before remembering Iva and Betty’s words from earlier that day. That apparently, these people knew who they were, and all their capabilities.

And they’d targeted Koala first, with that long-range kill.

“Don’t think about her,” Betty tells him, coming to a stop beside the door and pressing her hands against it. “Focus.”

“Right,” he mutters, just as she shoves the door open with one arm and pulls out a pistol with the other, gesturing him in. Sabo rips his metal pipe from the harness and stops several feet into the building, glancing around in the dark. There were enough windows to provide minimal lighting, but not enough to make much out.

“ _ Electricity’s a go _ ,” Karasu’s voice crackles from the earbuds. Sabo spins on his heels as the door shuts behind Betty and moves his hand to look for a lightswitch. Just as he’s found one, Betty’s voice makes him pause.

“Wait,” she drones. “Crow, trigger lights for the third and second floors. Let’s try and draw them down.” She motions for Sabo to stand down and he backs away, just noticing how quiet it was. They weren’t down yet. That, or they were waiting on a higher floor. 

He could see her logic. The building was big, and if they had to play hide-and-seek, there was a chance their foes could end up on the lower floor with only weaponless Koala to go up against. That was a definite no-go. 

“Lobster, wait to come through until the first floor lights are on,” Sabo says, looking to Betty for confirmation. She nods as Ina grunts in questioning. “We don’t want to get confused down here. Visibility is low.”

“ _ Viper, roger. What happens if they run back up the stairs? _ ”

“Corner them before that happens,” Betty insists. “There’s four of you. That’s priority number two, after Auger.”

“ _ Got it. _ ”

A low hum echoes around them, and Sabo guesses it was the power triggering back on. The building wasn’t exactly up to code, and definitely not operational, but the power lines hadn’t been cut, either. Good for them, he guessed.

Betty gestures for him to come further into the room. It’s a giant warehouse on the first floor, nothing but support beams to hide around, and they had a clear view of the staircase at the other end. They’re far enough away from the front entrance to where the light doesn’t catch them, and close enough to see when Karasu flips the switch for floor two, and light spills down the stairwell. 

Footsteps pound overhead and they both stop, listening. They slowly fade, heading towards the opposite end of the room, and Sabo tenses, one hand moving up to his mic while he turns his head to look to Betty.

The room was big enough that they can’t make out the voices that echo toward them. Shadows filter in from the top of the staircase, pausing, and Betty holds up a finger, signaling for him to wait. They both watch as, slowly, two figures descend, still arguing over something, if the tone of voice suggested anything. Sabo makes out what must be Lafitte, with the long carrier over his shoulder. They’re halfway down the steps when Betty nods to him, bringing her hand to her ear. “Crow, now.”

“Viper, your team’s a go,” Sabo mutters, squinting as the light turns on. Betty crouches and fires a shot right above the two’s heads, and both Lafitte and Auger swivel towards them, faces full of surprise. Lafitte’s expression twists as he says something to his partner before pulling out a handgun. Sabo jumps forward and lashes out with his pipe as he fires back, sending the bullet careening across the room. Then the back door bursts open, and Auger turns, his voice getting loud enough for them to make out.

“I  _ told you _ we were moving too slow!” he snaps, watching for a moment as the rest of The Revolutionaries spill in. Lafitte tsks and tips his gun, turning at the same time Auger does to book it back up the steps. Inazuma, expecting this, quickly takes action. They run forward and lash out with their sword at one of the supports for the staircase, cutting it clean and leaving the stairs tipping dangerously, halting the two’s progression upwards as they grip the other end’s railings to stay on their feet.

Inazuma spins on their heels and knocks the other support out of place, then moves back as the stairs come tumbling down. Lafitte and Auger don’t stay still for long from the fall, shown when Lafitte knocks his arm back and fires another round. Inazuma guards with their sword, and then Ivankov is there, lashing out with her leg to catch Auger, still stumbling to a stand, and sends him tumbling back, further into the room.

Betty, finally having adjusted to the light, picks her other gun from its holster and holds steady, tracking Lafitte with the barrels. Ivankov and Inazuma corral Auger off to the side, leaving his partner to fend for himself. Lafitte turns with a snarl and fires again towards Sabo and Betty, but he ends up slipping in his haste and falling into a crouch. Sabo steps forward to block again, but the weight of Koala’s bag throws him off-kilter, and he lashes out with his pipe to thin air. Betty ducks out of the way, grimacing, and motions for him to move aside. Sabo obliges, only considering dropping the bag for a split second before deciding against it.

Lafitte finally steadies and lifts the gun to fire again, but Betty it faster, knocking a few rounds back and only letting up when Lafitte is screaming and his handgun is on the floor, bloody. A voice calls his name, loud, and he looks back to see Auger guarding against his opponents one moment, and kicking a sharpened dagger towards him the next. Lafitte scrambles over to pick it up, holding it in his non-injured hand, and snarls as he moves back to face Betty, who’d come closer. He lashes out with the blade, catching her off-guard, but she manages to dodge by parrying with one of her pistols. Unfortunately this sends it flying further back in the room, and her sharp inhale lets Sabo know its too far to get to. 

Betty growls and thrust her remaining pistol forward as Lafitte does the same with his dagger, and they both pause in a standoff, barrel of her gun pressed to his forehead, and blade of his dagger against her throat. Her lips cock into a grin from a snarl, and her finger experimentally cocks the trigger.

“Too bad for you; I have a doctor across the room. It’d be ugly, but I’d survive a throat slashing. You, on the other hand . .” Her grin grows, then sharply morphs into a frown. “Give up.”

Lafitte gulps. Sabo begins circling, ready to corner him from behind. Slowly, he lowers the dagger from Betty’s throat. She twists her lips, poking his forehead. “Drop it.”

And he does, the sound loud against the flooring. Sabo swiftly circles up, but something catches his eye. His breath halts, and then he leaps into action, one hand reaching forward. “Seal-” he calls, but a shot rings out loud in the room before he can finish the warning.

Betty’s eyes grow large as her arms convulse, and then tip down as her gun falls to see the one hidden at Lafitte’s side. He grins, tipping his hat to her. “You really thought I didn’t have another gun, huh? Well, that’s too bad.” He leaps to the side as Sabo lashes out with his pipe, laughing and taking off in a sprint towards the front door. Betty’s hand comes up to her side as her body finally registers the bullet and she falls to the ground. 

“Betty-” Sabo says, crouching beside her. “Seal,” he corrects himself, reaching or her, but she slaps his arm away, still breathing heavily.

“No, the door!” she tells him, and Sabo looks up too late, sees the course Lafitte is aiming for. Across the way, the others have Auger restrained. Sabo tsks and reaches for his pipe, having tossed it to the ground when he put Betty as his priority. He moves to a crouch and lunges his arm back, then steps forward on one leg and hurls it towards Lafitte’s head. It misses, because he’s never been that great a shot, but the resounding crash does make Lafitte pause, turn his head to smirk at Sabo’s fail-

And that’s when the door busts open. Lafitte turns back in shock, unable to stop moving in time, and when the door hits the wall opposite, it reveals to Sabo and Betty Koala gliding through it in a high dive, leg still kicked forward from hitting the door. Lafitte gets a boot to the face and goes down, hard. Koala lands steady, seething, and takes a moment to note the bag on Lafitte’s shoulder, the implications it held. 

Sabo’s already unzipping the duffel, because down or not, Lafitte still had a firearm. “Tiger!” he calls, tossing one of her handguns, loaded, and she’s paying enough attention to come to it, correcting his aim by grabbing it from its off trajectory. Lafitte stumbles to his feet and Koala cocks and fires, his eyes growing as the bullet cuts just past his face, whipping his hair back. Before he can counter, she slams her foot to his chest, knocking him to the ground, and then puts another bullet into the cement near his face to freeze him. She huffs, holding him down with her shoe to his skull and the gun pointed at his face, and only then does she look up to the rest of them.

“Alright,” she huffs again. “Let’s get started.”

-

Ivankov had brought rope, and uses the excess not used on Auger on Lafitte. They toss them both in a heap in the center of the room, close both doors, and then tend to Betty. Inazuma is over her as she lies on the floor, shirt rolled up to reveal her bloody side. Sabo’s near her head, apologies long since faded since she started slapping him in protest, unwilling to accept his blame. Robin offers to call an ambulance, but Ivankov writes her off, says Betty wasn’t in the system so it was moot. 

Finally, Inazuma snaps at them all to give them space, and everyone backs off, circling around their prizes. Koala’s set up in front of Lafitte, digging in the duffel Sabo had supplied her with. He’s looking at her oddly, contrasted with Auger, who’s just frowning in defeat. Finally, he speaks up. “You know, we’re not going to say anything.”

Koala lifts a knife from the duffel after shuffling objects around, humming. “Who said anything about making you talk?” she says, checking both side of the blade before setting it aside. Lafitte’s odd look fades, and he gulps.

Well. She was right -they’d never been any good at interrogation.

“You’re the one that wanted to impersonate me,” Koala continues, lifting her eyes to finally meet his. “Payback’s a bitch.”

“Slow down,” Karasu tells her, coming around to sit in front of Auger, who flinches back. “We’ll go at the same time.”

He maneuvers Auger to face Lafitte, then does the same with the other. Koala wastes no time in pinning one of Lafitte’s bound hands to the floor, spinning the knife in her hand. Karasu takes out one of his sharper knives and does the same, and Auger audibly gulps at the sensation of the metal. 

“What are you talking about,” Koala mutters, deadpanning. “You’re always trying to psyche people out.”

“We could do them both,” he suggests.

She snickers. “Nah. This is more fun.” 

Sabo sets his hands on Robin’s shoulders and turns her away just as Koala slices through one of Lafitte’s fingers, leaving him screaming. She tosses the knife aside in favor of grabbing his head, and picks up the disembodied finger with her other hand. While his mouth is open from squealing, she shoves his finger in, then uses the same hand to force his chin up, closing his throat. Before them, Auger watches in horror, mouth agape. Lafitte convulses, eyes rolling back, and by the time Koala releases his jaw, he’s passed out, flat on the floor.

“That’s an interesting method,” Robin murmurs as Auger screams about telling them anything, and Karasu removes the cold metal from his finger in favor of letting him talk. Sabo glances down to see her head tilted toward them, and he sighs, slowly releasing her.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

She hums. “I appreciate the gesture. Hate to tell you, but I’ve seen worse, so it was unwarranted.”

Sabo scratches at his head. “Uh, sure. Okay.”

“Regardless, I think we now have enough information to move forward,” Robin continues, nodding towards Karasu, Koala, and Auger. “Van Auger was much less terrifying to deal with than I expected.”

“It’s the opposite,” Sabo voices. She tips her head to him. “We’re just more than you imagined.”

She hums again. “That may be true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i dont post the next chapter before the last week of november go [yell at me on my tumblr](http://cheswirls.tumblr.com)


End file.
